Shrouded Secrets
by Lachaiel
Summary: Harry Potter arrives to the wizarding world as an unusually intelligent and talented young boy. He soon discovers that initial impressions may be deceiving, and that there is a lot more to the wizarding world than meets the eye. How far will he go to unravel the secrets of this world and of magic, and will the pursuit consume him in the end?
1. Reminiscence, Part 1

**Note: The first few chapters will be slow, since they spend much time establishing the mechanics of magic and lay out some mysteries which will later prove crucial to the plot. After the stage has been set, the story will pick up in pace. For the first few chapters, be ready for a lot of exposition and discussion about magical theory.**

**Harry will be as out-of-character as you can possibly imagine (and Voldemort to a lesser extent, mainly to make him more competent than he was in canon), but I'll try to keep all other characters close to canon insofar as we have information on them. If you have ageist prejudices, you may find yourself thinking that this story's Harry is too mature for his age, which is certainly true if you compare him to the average person his age. Harry is hardly average in this story, however. If you don't like this kind of story, I'm writing this as fair warning so you don't have to read further and be disappointed.  
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**If you're looking for any kind of romance, angst or character bashing; this is not your story.  
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**There will be some technical content, but I will do my best to write the story in such a way that the uninterested reader can skip over most of these parts and still understand the plot. Regardless, the premise that magic is a part of nature that can be understood by humans is central in this story. If you have a more mystical conception of magic then you might find this distasteful. (Despit******e the impression you may get from this chapter, the wizarding world is not actually as "backwards" as it seems to Harry. Keep in mind that you're seeing the world from his perspective and not as it truly is.) **Once again, I've given fair warning.**

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For most, it was just another night at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The half-moon shone brightly over the tall mountains spread across the landscape around the castle, its light complementing the ethereal beauty of the lake and the forest below. A gentle wind was blowing, rustling the leaves and the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, the resulting sound carrying with it a sense of foreboding that seemed to warn of the dangers within the forest. A particular raven-haired boy stared out of the window in his room in the Ravenclaw dormitory, observing the idyllic scenery while contemplating the changes in his life that have occured over the past two months.

Harry Potter had always known that he was different. He could do things, sense things that others could not. He could easily understand concepts his peers struggled with. He could make objects move without touching them, incinerate things, create light from the palms of his hands. It was unnatural, as his relatives never failed to remind him, and he agreed with them at first. However, as he tried to understand how he could do the things he was able to do, he came to realize that his abilities were just as natural as anything else in the world.

It was accidental, at first. Sometimes, he would get glimpses of something exquisitely beautiful brushing at the edge of his consciousness. When he tried to grasp it, to try to sense more of it and understand what it was that he was experiencing, it would be gone. He learned through trial and error that forcing the issue did not help, so he tried the only thing he could think of as a five year old boy - meditation. At first, it was an impossible task for him. He couldn't clear his mind for more than a few seconds at most - his innate curiosity worked against him, always reminding him of something worth thinking about, and his concentration would be broken. It took him many months before he could clear his mind for more than a minute.

Then, he felt it. There, just at the edge of his consciousness, close to slipping away, was the most beautiful thing he had seen in his short life. This time, instead of trying to use force, he sank deeper into the meditative trance. The world did not exist for him at that moment. There was only what he could see in his mind's eye; an entity of seemingly endless detail and complexity, the entire construct seemingly vibrating in harmony, creating music like he had never heard before. Mere words were impotent to describe what he felt, what he saw at that moment. After some time, perhaps seconds or perhaps hours, he gradually woke from the trance and centered himself. That was the first time Harry Potter was able to get a glimpse of what he would later call his own soul.

As the years went by, he learned many things from study and experimentation. He discovered that his seemingly unnatural abilities were in fact somehow facilitated by his soul. He learned what he could about mechanics, about derivatives, about classical fields and their laws of motion. The more he learned, the more he realized how fascinated he was by nature and its intricacies. He later came to understand that what he saw in his mind's eye when he cleared his mind was best described as a superposition of many scalar-valued fields, or equivalently, a vector-valued field. At eleven years old, his knowledge of infinite dimensional vector space theory and functional analysis remained woefully inadequate, so he was only able to get a rudimentary understanding of the collection of fields he named "the Shroud". To the best of his understanding, there was a coupling (or a resonance) between the Shroud and the fields described in the physics textbooks he could find in the libraries he frequented. It was similar to the coupling between the electric and magnetic fields in classical electromagnetism, and he doubted that without Maxwell's work he would've been able to construct even the simple toy model he was able to put together. The coupling constants, however, was not large enough compared to the amplitude of the vibrations common throughout the Shroud, which made the extra fields impossible to measure in most contexts. The only exception he could find to this was when he himself acted to cause changes in the Shroud, which carried over to the physical world through the coupling. He still did not understand how it was possible that brains were capable of resonating so strongly within the Shroud, which was one of the many problems with his simple model.

Through this understanding and practice, his control over his abilities gradually improved, but he remained unable to do anything which required anything more than a modicum of precision with them. He also grew concerned about the fact that this entire new realm of physics was apparently unexplored by anyone who came before him. Either he was the first to stumble upon this discovery by accident, or the discovery had been kept secret from the general public for reasons he could not fathom. In either case, he surmised it would be dangerous to speak about what he knew openly until he had a better understanding of the situation, so he kept his discoveries about the Shroud to himself.

Then, the fateful day arrived. The Dursley household got a letter, addressed to one Harry James Potter specifically, inviting him to attend a school of _withcraft and wizardry_. Harry would've thought it an elaborate prank if it was not for the unusual sensation he got when he touched the letter - there was a certain level of excitement, something resembling high frequency but low amplitude vibration in the Shroud around the letter, suggesting that it had been subjected to some resonance in the near past. Unfortunately for him, nothing inside the letter so much as hinted at knowledge of the Shroud, choosing instead to talk about wands and broomsticks and cauldrons. They even requested a reply to their message _by owl_. The situation was surreal, and Harry needed to go up to his room and lock himself inside for several hours while trying to work out what could possibly be going on.

The most plausible hypothesis he was able to come up with was that the letter had been written using a code, but his efforts at cracking it yielded no results. He speculated that whoever sent the letter may have assumed that he knew the code and would be able to understand the contents without much trouble, but unfortunately this was not the case. He had no idea how to send a reply to the letter by owl, and even less of an idea where to get all of the strange items mentioned in the letter, so he decided that there was really no way he could respond to receiving the letter. He would save it just in case, perhaps sometime in the future he would feel like wasting another hour or two trying to crack a uniquely strange code.

It was a few days later that, on a whim, he brought up the strange letter at the dinner table with his relatives. To his surprise, Petunia's face turned white at the mention of the "Hogwarts School of Wicthcraft and Wizardry", whereas Vernon's face turned a shade of purple. He learned, after some _convincing_, that the letter was not a joke and there was a whole world of witches and wizards out there who wore strange robes and communicated with each other by owl. Apparently his parents had been a part of this secretive community, and they did not die in a car crash like he had been led to believe. He had never questioned the circumstances of his parents' death, but if he had, the theory that they had been killed by a mad wizard in a wizarding war would've been one of the furthest things from his mind. The bizarre exposition finally sent him over the edge, and he simply started laughing, failing to recenter himself for a few minutes. After his hysteric attack was over, he asked Petunia if she knew where he could learn more about this world, and she told him about a place called Diagon Alley which he could enter through a pub in London called The Leaky Cauldron. After some more _convincing_, they agreed to give him enough money to take a cab to make his entrance to the wizarding world.

If he thought that reading about wizards and witches on a piece of paper was surreal, Harry had no words to describe the scene before him when the bartender Tom agreed to open the way to Diagon Alley for him after tapping a sequence of bricks with a wooden stick that Harry assumed to be a wand. Apparently he was famous in the wizarding world for something he could not remember, if people's gawking, staring and not-so-quiet whispering behind his back was any indication. When he told Tom about the situation he found himself in, he received the advice to visit Gringotts first, which was a wizarding bank run by _goblins_. Harry did not know if anything could surprise him anymore, so he simply nodded and promptly made his way to the white marble building which was being guarded by vicious-looking green dwarfs who he assumed to be goblins. His business in the bank went surprisingly well, and he found out he had more than enough wealth to cover for his expenses in the wizarding world thanks to a trust vault set up by his parents before their untimely demise. The international common currency system in the wizarding world intrigued Harry quite a bit, since he vaguely recalled the dangers of such a policy from a macroeconomics book he had once read, but he refrained from interrogating the goblin with his questions about the economy of the wizarding world. Instead, he took an amount of money deemed adequate by the goblin who showed him to his trust vault, and promptly left the bank to find a bookstore.

He was aware that his attire was extremely out of place in the wizarding world, which seemed to be stuck, in every way conceivable (including their sense of fashion), in the Renaissance era. He was never one to care much about appearances, however, so he felt no compulsion to take any time to replace his clothes with something that would not stand out as much. Instead, he made his way to a bookstore named Flourish & Blotts, and proceeded to spend four hours perusing the books on the shelves and choosing which ones to buy. He had brought the letter with him, so he also decided to buy all of the books which were listed as requirements for first year students at the school. Unfortunately for him, it had slipped his mind to acquire a means of carrying the books he had bought, so he simply levitated them and moved to get out of the bookstore. He thought something was off about the stares he was getting while walking to the Leaky Cauldron to rent a room, but he attributed it to the fact that he was levitating the books instead of carrying them inside a trunk like everyone else seemed to be doing. He had to admit that it made him stand out even more than he had been already.

After he convinced the bartender that he had nowhere else to stay because his Muggle relatives had chased him out of the house after he got his Hogwarts letter (which may not have been too far from the truth in a world where Harry was less capable and less intelligent), he was able to get a room without any further trouble. He deposited the books inside the room and left for his final stop of the day, which was a wandmaker in the Alley called Ollivander's. He had read a bit about wandlore in the bookstore before making his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, and what little he had read had left him with more questions than answers. It appeared that witches and wizards relied on wands as a focus for their magic, which made it easier for them to use magic and allowed them to cast spells.

Harry still had no idea what "magic" or "spells" actually _were_, even though he knew the incantations and wand movements for many from his time in the bookstore. He simply did not understand how uttering some Latin phrase and making a swishing motion with a wooden stick made it any easier to produce the waves in the Shroud required to generate resonance with the physical world, and none of the books he had the opportunity to look at in the bookstore expounded on this subject of crucial importance. He was sure that what he could do was, if not "magic", at least somehow related to it; as since he had entered the Alley he was feeling a constant excitement in the part of the Shroud surrounding him, one similar to what he had felt from the Hogwarts letter. He could not yet extend his senses in the Shroud beyond his immediate vicinity, so he could not sense what others were doing when they used their wands; so he resolved to head to the wandmaker to acquire one. It would be much easier to experiment and discover how wands fit into his model of the interaction between the Shroud and the physical world once he had one in his possession.

With these thoughts on his mind, Harry made his way to the wandmaker, opened the door and stepped inside. The shop seemed empty, so Harry took some time to look around him. He saw many boxes filled to the brim with different wands, and it was at that moment that Mr. Ollivander chose to startle him by appearing seemingly out of nowhere. After some talk about his parents' wands and how he had been expecting Harry, Ollivander took some measurements and they proceeded to go through half of the wands in the shop without finding "a match". As he had read in the bookstore and as Mr. Ollivander chose to remind him, the wand chose the wizard, not the other way around; though Harry still had no clue how a stick of wood with part of some magical creature inside it could "choose" anybody for anything.

However, it was the way the wands reacted when he held them that Harry found most intriguing. They seemed to lightly probe his presence within the Shroud, and then fell silent. When he tried waving the wands as Mr. Ollivander instructed him to, he felt the wand's probe more strongly and his own soul reacted on instinct, pushing the unwanted intruder out and causing unintended damage throughout the shop. Finally, Mr. Ollivander handed him a wand from inside a room at the back of the shop and Harry felt the difference instantly. This wand also probed his presence, but instead of retreating, it established a link between them. Harry felt the resulting surge of warmth strongly, and waved the wand, which produced blue and green sparks.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, very good... curious... how very curious..." Ollivander seemed to feel no compunction about not elaborating further, so Harry pressed him:

"What's curious, sir?"

Ollivander eyed him with a gaze that somehow apeared otherworldly, and replied:

"I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter, every single one... It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave just one other. It is very curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Harry remembered the term "brother wand" from his brief time in the bookstore, but he did not know how it was significant for two wands to share the same core. Still, it was with a certain sense of foreboding that Harry left the wandmaker's shop, the knowledge that his wand was the brother of the Dark Lord's weighing down on him as if the air around him had become denser. Harry felt it was no use pondering this mystery when he did not know the first thing about wands and how they worked yet, so he filed this knowledge away in the back of his mind and returned to matters of more immediate concern, such as understanding the role of wands in casting spells, as he walked back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron.

By all accounts he should've been hungry by now, but as it often happened, he forgot about lunch in favor of experimenting with his newly acquired wand. He opened the Standard Book of Spells that he had acquired from the bookstore once he got back to his room, and found the page depicting the Wand-Lighting charm - a simple charm designed to create a ball of light from the end of a wizard's wand. Harry could already achieve this without the use of spells, since the electric and magnetic fields were both directly coupled to the Shroud - it was one of the simplest ways to generate resonance. He also thought his control over it was fairly good, so he felt it was the best option to start experimenting with.

He took his wand, made the necessary wand movement, focused on his intent to create light as instructed by the book and incanted "_Lumos!_"

At that moment, Harry felt the wand's probe through the connection, and instantly a part of his soul reached out, from him, through the wand; and Harry could only watch in awe as the wand seemed to perform what could only be described as a perfect demonstration of electromagnetic resonance. An instant later, the wand's tip lighted up.

It was difficult to express in words what Harry was feeling at that moment - it was a mixture of befuddlement, awe, contemplation and shock. Willing himself to calm down by clearing his mind as he had learned to do so many years ago, he closed his eyes and started thinking about how to interpret the results of his small experiment. First, he understood that what he was doing and what other wizards did with their wands was not only similar, but in fact exactly identical - the Wand-Lighting charm created light using the same method that Harry himself used to do so. However, when he held the wand in his hand, Harry could not honestly say that it was _him _who created the ball of light. Yes, the wand had drawn on his soul and he could _feel _how his soul manipulated the Shroud through the wand, but Harry simply did not have the required level of precision and control to create light without a wand as gracefully and as unwastefully as the wand seemed to direct him into doing. It was almost as if the wand knew exactly what to do, and Harry's only relevant input in the process was the temporary use of his soul.

Hypotheses began to form in Harry's head; wild and uncontrolled. He wanted to know how the wand was able to do what it was doing; no, he _needed _to know. After some thought, Harry concluded that the only way the wand could've known exactly what to do in this situation was if two conditions were met: the wand had some way of probing its surroundings within the Shroud, since without this input the appropriate manipulation can't be decided; and the wand had within it a stored procedure (or some way to access such a procedure) for the Wand-Lighting charm, which was refined beyond what Harry could hope to achieve in his current state without the wand. Unfortunately, Harry had no clue how a stick of wood with a phoenix tail feather inside it could possibly contain such precise and refined instructions, process them within miliseconds and react appropriately to the command he gave the wand. He realized it now; the wand movement, intent and incantation were probably all components required to erase any ambiguity, and they carried no special meaning beyond the fact that the wand seemed to be tuned to recognize them as a trigger. Again, Harry had no ideas on how this was possible.

In fact, now that he thought about it carefully, he did not even have an idea of how it was possible for a wand to have such a distinguished presence in the Shroud to begin with - similar to a creature with a rudimentary nervous system. If the similarity went beyond the Shroud, as Harry now felt it must, then there may have been more merit than he had initially thought in the claim that "the wand chooses the wizard" - after all, from what Harry knew at this point, conscious experience was indirectly coupled to the nervous system through the Shroud, so it was reasonable to conjecture that a distinguished presence within the Shroud, which one could call a "soul", was a necessary and sufficient condition for the existence of some form of consciousness. If the wand indeed had a rudimentary form of consciousness, it could quite possibly make choices of its own, and the presence of some kind of nervous system would also explain the wand's uncanny capability for storing and using large amounts of information. This line of thought made Harry regard the wand in his hand with a newfound respect and reverence. That which he had initially dismissed in his ignorance as a stick of wood was in fact a veritable treasure trove of knowledge on how to manipulate the Shroud, if one only knows the language with which to speak to it. Practicing with the wand and observing its actions could allow Harry to improve his skills far faster than he had thought.

Satisfied with the conclusions he had drawn so far, he made two swishes with his wand as instructed by the book and incanted "_Nox!_" The experience of manipulating the Shroud through the wand was repeated, and the wand ended the stable local equilibrium that existed between the Shroud and the electromagnetic fields with grace, and the light emanating from the tip of the wand died out.

Harry spent the next two hours practicing various spells from the Standard Book of Spells until his hunger became too much to ignore.

In the weeks leading up to September 1st, Harry stayed in his room at the Leaky Cauldron and occasionally ventured out into the alley to purchase new books or complete his acquisition of school supplies. He had decided to attend Hogwarts after his first day in the Alley, and his discovery about how wizards who did not complete their Ordinary Wizarding Level exams with satisfactory results were not legally allowed to carry wands only reinforced his decision on the matter. He had already informed his relatives that they would most likely not see him until the next summer, if at all, since Harry would much rather be in close proximity to the Alley for now.

However, Harry also had his share of disappointments with the wizarding world, starting from the complete inadequacy of their understanding of mathematics and physics. When Harry had observed that the wizarding world seemed to be stuck in the Renaissance era, he did not think this state of backwardness would extend to the study of nature as well; especially given the level of knowledge that wands obviously had access to. Only someone with a knowledge of mathematics and physics far beyond Harry's own could have engineered these marvelous artifacts and then provided them with the necessary knowledge for them to be able to perform their function. In fact, the discrepancy between the capabilities of wands and the level of general mathematical competence in the wizarding world was so striking that at some point Harry harbored some suspicions about whether wands were a species that co-evolved with wizards and witches to have a symbiotic relationship with them, but the obvious existence of wandmakers put such outrageous musings to a halt. It did not help that wandmakers were excessively secretive about their craft, and did not divulge information about how they produced the wands they sold, leaving Harry in the dark and extremely confused.

The only piece of information Harry was able to obtain about wands other than what he had speculated himself on his own through trial and error was found in books about spell-crafting. Given what he himself had surmised about the nature of spells and the general scientific illiteracy of the wizarding population, the discovery that spell-crafting was an esoteric subject touched by only a tiny fraction of wizards was not surprising to Harry. He had to scour several bookstores in the Alley to find some tomes on spell-crafting, and each time he bought a book on the subject, the employees working at the bookstore gave him a look that Harry suspected was somewhere between bewilderment and condescension. Harry paid it no mind, but he was aware that the rarity of these tomes was beginning to put a real dent into his Gringotts vault. He had found out by reading _Hogwarts: A History _that Hogwarts had an exceptionally large library for the students to peruse, so he resolved to curb his expenditures on rare tomes after his purchases of spell-crafting books.

What he found in these books was... interesting. Harry had hoped to find a method for instructing the wand on what to do directly, but spell-crafting was not such an exact discipline. There was some mathematical theory involved, but far less than Harry had expected; and most of the books were dedicated to understanding how to piece together simple actions that the books assumed the wands were able to perform by default and chain them into spells with much more complicated effects. It appeared that most spells were created this way - in retrospect, Harry had to admit that this was a much more efficient method than doing everything from scratch every time you wanted a new spell which would achieve a new objective. However, what Harry found more interesting was that _every wand would be able to perform a spell once it was created using any wand_. This meant that the knowledge of spells was not stored inside the wand as Harry had initially thought; there had to be some way for wands to communicate with each other, even if indirectly, for the knowledge of the creation of a spell using one wand to be transferred to every wand in existence. It could be that the base Spell-Creation Charm, incantation _creo incantamentum_, had as part of its working procedure a way to transfer knowledge to other wands; or it could be that different wands shared some form of collective consciousness, or it could be that there was some common repository of information that they could access. Without more information, Harry really couldn't say, though the subject of wandlore and spell-creation was becoming more and more interesting to him by the day.

He was also fascinated by transfiguration. It was something Harry would not have attempted in his wildest dreams before his discovery of wands and their capabilities, since the precision demanded by even the simplest acts of transfiguration, such as the common first year exercise of turning a match into a needle, was simply unattainable for him. However, using a wand and simply concentrating on the process of the change from a match to a needle, as well as the properties of both objects that he could think of, made it not only possible, but _easy_. It took Harry some trial and error to understand exactly what the wand demanded from him to achieve a successful transfiguration, but after this step Harry repeated the simple transfiguration of a match into a needle more than fifty times, each time carefully observing how it was possible for an object to be changed in such fine detail - the very atoms making up its structure were being changed, after all. Harry quickly learned from his textbooks that transfiguration could not change the mass of an object, which made sense to Harry - after all, if his model of the Shroud was any good, there was still a global conservation of energy law to worry about, and simply destroying mass would release inordinate amounts of energy either within physical fields or within the Shroud, neither of which would be pleasant. Because of this, he was very suspicious of the Vanishing Charm, and believed it was more akin to a form of teleportation. After all, there is little practical difference between vanishing an object and teleporting it to the vacuum of deep space some light years away from the planet.

His experience of short conversations with various witches and wizards in the Alley, who were only too happy to have a chance to talk to the famous Harry Potter; along with what he read from the various books he had acquired led him to the conclusion that at least the common witch and wizard were unaware of the actual mechanics behind the use of magic. In other words, to them, it really was magic - which made the nomenclature rather apt in a way Harry had not suspected before. Harry was initially astonished and somewhat outraged over this discovery, but as he put more thought into it, he realized that there really was very little difference between using magic and using your arms to lift an object off the ground. Most people who use their arms to lift an object off the ground do not know a fraction of the biological process that allows them to achieve this feat, so why should he expect it to be different with magic? Wizards and witches simply, instinctively _know _how to use a wand to lift an object off the ground, and the wand serves as an augmentation tool which makes up for their lack of capability and expertise in some essential subjects. However, this lack of awareness, along with the distinction between Muggles and wizards, led Harry to a fundamental question: _what is the difference between a wizard and a Muggle?_

After all, both wizards and Muggles had presences within the Shroud, and both could clearly perform the necessary wand movements, speak the proper incantation and have the required intent to get results out of a spell. Since the wand drew on the presence of a human within the Shroud, the answer should somehow be related to the nature of this presence, but since Harry's own perception within the Shroud did not extend very far from his own central nervous system, he was unable to perform any observation to settle this question. It was another mystery that he would have to live with, at least for the time being. However, he was appropriately amused by reading a vast assortment of utter nonsense on the subject, which described any publication and any book he was able to find which tried to answer the question. There was no shortage of insane armchair speculation, ranging from the hypothesis that all wizards descended from magical creatures (which, aside from contradicting the existence of muggleborn wizards, only serves to push up the question to the next level without answering it) to the hypothesis that wizards had a "magical core" from which they were able to draw "magic", which was apparently some kind of "pure energy", and then use the wand to "change its form" into one that they liked, or some such nonsense. It seemed like the very concept of energy was too difficult to grasp for the esteemed writers who wrote on this subject. Harry was geniunely hoping that he would have access to better resources than this drivel in an educational establishment as renowned as Hogwarts was.

On September 1st, Harry woke up early and packed his belongings, most of which were part of his book collection that was at this point growing into a small library, into a trunk he had recently purchased in the Alley. He dressed in his school robes and used the Floo of the Leaky Cauldron to make his way to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He briefly wondered why he could not simply Floo to an establishment in Hogsmeade, the small wizarding village near Hogwarts, but assumed there must be some traditional or practical reason to make students spend some time on the Hogwarts Express. As it would turn out, he was right, and in this instance he would not be happy to be.


	2. Reminiscence, Part 2

Harry made his way through the crowds waiting on the platform in front of the train, his hair carefully covering the scar which he had learned made him rather easy to identify. He had arrived early so he could find a seat for himself where he would be left alone for the duration of the trip - he never enjoyed the company of his peers, and he was certain he was not going to start doing so now.

He felt it as soon as he stepped fully into the train. A presence within the Shroud permeated the space in which he stood, and it tried to form a connection with its soul similar to the one he had formed with his wand. However, while his wand felt warm, comforting and empowering; this presence felt oppressive and hostile. It was much worse than the attempts of unsuitable wands to form a connection, and for a moment Harry was afraid of making a scene in front of so many people - drawing even more attention to himself was not what he wanted to do at this moment. Instead of reacting violently, he tempered his reaction with great effort, and pushed out the presence as gently and silently as he could. As soon as he managed to completely block out the threat, he immediately stepped off the train and went back onto the platform. The hostile presence promptly disappeared.

His expression darkened with fury. Who would _dare _to try to attack him in front of so many people, inside the Hogwarts Express? He had known he would have enemies due to his fame and the circumstances behind it, but he didn't imagine they would be so careless and brazen about their attempts to avenge their fallen Lord. No, the Dark Lord's followers would not and could not attack him here. In that case, who was the mysterious attacker, and what was their motivation?

After some contemplation, Harry decided to approach the problem from another perspective, one inspired by the ease with which he had thrown off the attack. Maybe the target wasn't specifically him, but some others on the train; and the presence merely felt hostile and oppressive because it had been woven into the Express with the intention of causing suffering or death to one within the Express, and he was able to throw it off as easily as he did because he was not the target. However, if the presence was so poorly disguised, surely others would feel its purpose and take action? Looking at the train, he could see many students, some much older than him, sitting comfortably in their seats and waiting for the eventual departure of the train. If they felt a fraction of what he had felt, there was no way they could stand sitting in a seat with the suffocating presence around them; so they must not feel it. Was he indeed the target, then? How was it even possible for such a hostile ward to be woven across the Express with nobody noticing?

Harry shook his head. This was not getting him anywhere. He was also attracting attention due to his strange behavior. He was sure that something was wrong, so instead of risking attracting even more attention with another failed foray into the train, he elected to use the Floo in the station to go directly to the Three Broomsticks, an inn in Hogsmeade that he had read about. He could simply find a seat in the inn and spend his time getting some work done, or perhaps peruse whatever resources he had available in his trunk about the Hogwarts Express to try to find an answer to the hostile ward mystery. With these thoughts in his mind, Harry grabbed some Floo powder, tossed it into the fireplace, shouted the name of his destination and stepped into the green flames.

He arrived rather ungracefully by stumbling outside the fireplace in the inn. If he was going to make frequent use of Floo travel in the future, it was imperative for him to practice more in order to avoid looking like a meandering fool when he stepped out of the fireplace - Floo travel was disorienting, and he could barely stand straight when arriving at his destination. Regaining his bearings, he looked around to find the inn empty aside from a woman with blonde hair and brown robes making her way towards him from across the counter. She must've noticed his arrival - maybe she could be of some help cracking the most recent mystery he had to deal with. When she came close enough to see him clearly, she stopped in place and her expression told Harry that she recognized him. He was still covering his scar, so she couldn't have recognized him that way, which made Harry narrow his eyes in suspicion. She looked like she was about to say something when Harry beat her to the punch:

"Hello, ma'am, I had a rather unfortunate experience aboard the Hogwarts Express some minutes ago and decided to get to Hogwarts by Floo instead. I would like a table for a few hours, if it would not be an inconvenience at this ungodly hour in the morning?"

The woman seemed startled for a moment, before she collected herself and responded in a kind tone. "Oh, it would not be an inconvenience at all, my dear! Tell me, are you Harry Potter?"

So the woman _did _recognize him. Not many in the wizarding world recognized him without seeing his scar, so the situation was unusual. Seeing no harm in admitting it, Harry answered her question honestly. "Yes, ma'am, that's me. If you don't mind me asking, how did you recognize me? Not many do when my scar is out of sight."

She smiled kindly, but Harry could see traces of sorrow in her eyes. "Your father used to be a regular of this place. He would come often with his friends. You look so much like him, that's how I recognized you. Your eyes you got from your mother, though."

Harry blinked. His resemblance to his father had completely slipped from his mind. He had seen pictures of his parents, though they were older than eleven in them; and even then he had to admit that the resemblance was rather startling. With that mystery settled, Harry remembered he had not asked for her name. "And who might you be, ma'am?"

"Rosmerta. I'm the landlady of this place. Make yourself comfortable, you're welcome for as long as you'd like. Is there anything you'd like?"

Harry knew the question was meant as a request for an order, so he thought this was a good time to seek her assistance in resolving the mystery of the Hogwarts Express, so he decided to postpone the order until he got that subject out of the way. He moved to one of the tables and took a seat. "Yes, but I would like to seek your assistance with a matter first, if it is not too much trouble. It is about the unfortunate experience I mentioned earlier."

"Of course, dear, though I don't know how much help I'll be."

Harry thought about how best to phrase his query without sounding paranoid or causing panic, and he settled with a simple question. He did not want to cause any unnecessary distress before he checked the books he had with him for any mention of wards on the train. "Do you know anything about the wards placed on the Hogwarts Express?"

She blinked, and then let out a laugh. "Oh dear, I won't be able to help you with that one. Not exactly my area of expertise, mind you."

Harry expected as much, but he thought it was still worth a try. "No matter, I'll try to sort out the problem myself. Thank you regardless, ma'am - sometimes, it's the will that matters, not the deed."

She looked at him with a confused and surprised expression, appearing at a loss as to what to say. She decided in favor of being simple and direct. "You're an unusual kid, you know."

Harry chuckled, the amusement he found in the comment geniune. "Yes, I've been told as much often, ma'am. I hate to interrupt our conversation, but may I have a bottle of pumpkin juice, please? I also need some time to look into the problem I had on the Express. I may be busy for a while, so do excuse me if I find myself unable to spare more time to enjoy your company." Of course, Harry did not think he could enjoy her company for more than two minutes on a good day, but there was no need to let her know that at this moment in time.

She let out another laugh, and shook her head. "Oh, you're a charmer. Fine, I'll leave you to your work." She grabbed a bottle of pumpkin juice from over the counter, came back to the table and handed it over. "There, if you need anything else, you can call me. I'll be around."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, ma'am. I'll keep it in mind."

With that, she disappeared from his table, and he got to work by removing a few books he felt might be relevant from his trunk and set them on the table. He took out his wand, performed the V-shaped wand movement for the Subject-Searching Charm, and incanted "_Invenio._" while focusing on the subject of wards and other presences on the Hogwarts Express. Immediately, all of the books in front of him flipped to pages where words related to the subject he had in mind glowed with a blue light. He went to work immediately.

* * *

After two hours, he was not any closer to determining what the mysterious oppressive presence he felt aboard the train was. His search yielded a lot of results about defensive wards, which the Hogwarts Express was apparently layered with to protect the students from attack while en route to the castle. This only served to make Harry more perplexed about the means of travel chosen to arrive at the castle. If it took so much complex defensive ward work to protect the students en route while they were sitting ducks for any potential foe to launch an attack, why not simply bypass the necessity for the wards altogether by having the students travel by portkey or floo from the platform? It would cause no trouble for anyone, and the platform _already _had a working connection to the Floo Network, so there was absolutely no reason Harry could see for the chosen method of travel being a _train _which took _hours _to arrive at its destination, and needed to be protected by the best defensive wards known to the wizarding world. His research not only failed to solve the initial mystery he was trying to put to rest, but served to infect his mind with even more.

He would not give up, however. He incanted for what must've been the hundredth time in two hours, "_Deinde._"

The book in front of him flipped to the next page in which there was material relevant to the subject at hand. He began reading from the top.

"_...the use of the Hogwarts Express as the means of transportation to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came under scrutiny during the Wizarding War, when families were concerned about the safety of their children en route to the school. However, Minister Harold Minchum argued that doing so would be to show weakness to You-Know-Who and his army of followers, and he reassured worried families by requesting assistance from specialists in ward-making employed in the Department of Mysteries. The new wards were placed under the Minister's authority, and the involvement of the usually reclusive Department in the ward-making process served to calm the public outrage._"

Harry blinked, and blinked again. There were wards on the Hogwarts Express placed by the Department of Mysteries? From what little Harry knew about them, which was not much given his focus on magical theory and practice in the past few weeks, the Department of Mysteries engaged in dangerous and cutting-edge research, and the employees of the department were not permitted to speak of their research activities within. They were most certainly not the department of the Ministry which would get involved in warding a privately owned train carrying the students of a private boarding school against attack from the Dark Lord. It was therefore understandable that the Minister's involvement of them would stabilize the situation, but what Harry did not understand was _why _Minister Minchum was so adamant on keeping the method of transportation. The Express did not even have to be abandoned permanently, only for the duration of the war. Was the cultural significance of the Hogwarts Express really so enormous, its value as a symbol so high? Harry found the entire event extremely suspicious, but without more information there wasn't much more he could infer about the situation.

Curious, Harry took out some history books which he felt may be more relevant to the subject he now wanted to search for, and incanted "_Invenio._"

There were surprisingly few matches for what he had searched for, and Harry was reassured in his initial belief that inteference by the Department of Mysteries in the Wizarding War was exceedingly rare. In the three books covering the War independently from each other, Harry found a total of four references to the Department of Mysteries and the Unspeakables. Three of them were references to the same subject - there was an Unspeakable among the Dark Lord's followers, Augustus Rookwood, who was sentenced to life in Azkaban during the Death Eater trials of 1981 following the testimony of Igor Karkaroff. The fourth reference was to the same incident that Harry had just read about - the warding of the Hogwarts Express by the Department of Mysteries upon the request of Minister Minchum. The fact that the Dark Lord had a follower among the Unspeakables made Harry doubt the effectiveness of any defensive wards they may have put up around the Hogwarts Express, given that the Dark Lord would've most likely been able to dismantle the wards with inside knowledge of how they were constructed, but the fact remained that the Dark Lord never attacked the Express during the War. It is possible he was deterred by the wards, but it was impossible to be sure without more knowledge.

Instead of pondering the Dark Lord's decisions during the War, Harry turned his attention once again to the subject of hostile wards on the Express. Was it possible that he sensed one of the wards placed on the train by the Unspeakables? No, it did not make sense. The Unspeakables had no reason to target him specifically with their wards, especially since they placed the wards before he was even born... Perhaps the wards he sensed were placed on the train as a measure to neutralize intruders who managed to make their way past the outer layer of defensive wards, and his natural sensitivity to activity within the Shroud caused him to interpret the destructive nature of the wards as hostility directed towards him? No, that did not fit either. He clearly sensed the oppressive presence attempt to create a connection with his soul, presumably to judge his intent. If that were the case, his refusal to comply should've invoked a violent reaction from the ward, but instead it invoked... nothing.

Harry shook his head. This avenue of research was not bearing much fruit. Perhaps he was approaching the problem from the wrong angle. Instead of trying to find a list of wards placed on the Express and narrowing it down by eliminating the ones which did not fit his experience, he should start by making a list of wards which would fit his experience, and eliminate the ones which are not likely to be placed on the Express. The problem with this approach was that Harry had only a few weeks' worth of relevant knowledge available to him, and no knowledge whatsoever about warding beyond the utter basics. Despite the small library he carried around with him in his trunk, he also did not have any book with him which he would be able to use as a reference to start his research project. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to continuing this project once he had access to the Hogwarts library, which would hopefully contain a reference book on warding that he could peruse for the purposes of this investigation. Until then, he could make use of the time remaining before the arrival of the Express by reading one of his potions books, and hopefully be a little less mystified about how it was possible for powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn to react with each other to produce a liquid which calms anxiety when ingested. The book, unfortunately, did not provide much in the way of explanation; but Harry was used to such lack of clarity from whatever he knew of organic chemistry, so he started to draw reaction diagrams on a blank piece of parchment and got lost in his thoughts.

* * *

It was sunset by the time Harry had managed to produce a plausible reaction mechanism from the ingredients to a benzodiazepine variant, which he could at least believe had an anxiety calming effect from memory, though he could not remember the mechanism by which this took place. However, if the reaction was carried out normally without any interference from the Shroud, with the ingredients used in the potion, you would be lucky to get one percent by mass of the entire resulting solution to be any benzodiazepine variant. The impurities would be difficult to deal with. Harry suspected that the excited nature of the ingredients within the Shroud made this particular reaction pathway the dominant one, but he had no clue how. He wondered if the inventor of the Draught of Peace stumbled upon the concoction by accident, or if he somehow purposefully engineered it from scratch. If it was the former, he must've been extremely lucky; and if it was the latter, he must've been extremely talented. Harry did not know which one was more likely.

Figuring now was as good a time as any to make his way to the castle, Harry paid Madam Rosmerta for the three bottles of pumpkin juice he had consumed during his extended stay in the inn and made his way up to the castle. The moment he entered through the outer doors of the castle grounds, he felt the Shroud flare up to life around him. He presumed these must be the wards permeating the castle grounds, and after taking a moment to adjust himself to the sudden change, he moved on. If he remembered correctly, the Express should be arriving within ten minutes, so he could simply join the students in front of the entrance hall once they made their way into the castle. At the moment, he couldn't care less about the Sorting, and he was only looking forward to the Feast because he had once again skipped lunch, this time due to his dedication to understanding the Draught of Peace. The more time he spent in the wizarding world, the more confused he became. Each day came with new questions and rarely with any answers to go along with them.

In fact, stepping back and looking at the entire situation, it was itself a mystery how the entire wizarding world could've stayed stuck in the Renaissance era with the entrance of so many muggleborns to their society every year. The common explanation was that magic and electricity did not interact well, which was true; the coupling between the Shroud and the EM fields meant that most spells interfered destructively with any kind of electronic circuitry. However, if this were the entire story, the same would be true for light, which is itself an electromagnetic wave. The lack of destructive interference between most spells and, say, candles or lanterns, is enough evidence that the interference is in principle a solvable engineering problem. Clearly when the basic wand actions which serve as the basis for most spells were created, there _was_ no electronic circuitry around, and so the engineers did not work around the potential interference problem, given that it would be extra effort with no reward. In other words, the coupling between EM fields and the Shroud is simply an excuse - once it is deciphered, the real claim being made is that the wizarding world can't use electricity because wandmakers do not adjust their products to not interfere destructively with circuitry as they once did with light sources. This only begs the question - _why? Why are wandmakers so secretive about their craft? Why aren't the adjustments which would see the wizarding world advance beyond steam engines made to the wands? Is the cost so high and the demand so low that it's not worth it, or is there another reason?_

Of course, the fact that wizards can't use electricity next to spellwork does not explain their total lack of knowledge about anything that was done by mathematicians and physicists in the last three centuries - unsurprisingly, the date at which the wizarding community's progress in these fields seems to have stopped to a halt matches with the date of the enactment of the International Statute of Secrecy, which had the effect of cutting off most of the contact wizards had with Muggles. Under these conditions of near-total isolation, it is plausible that the backwardness of the wizarding world is simply a result of their much lower population compared to the Muggle world, combined with the well-known wealth effect from economics - they already have magic, so they have much less of an incentive to try to develop advanced steam engines or understand electromagnetism to be able to design and build circuitry. Harry knew all of this, but it was still not convincing to him. The Statute of Secrecy did not forbid learning from Muggles, and there are plenty of wizards and witches who have the modicum of sense required to copy what they do in areas where they are better at doing it. In addition, wizards had the advantage of being wizards, which meant they have access to a wide variety of potential methods to enhance their intelligence through the use of spellwork. Every book Harry read, every person Harry brought up this subject in passing during a conversation with cited the wealth effect as the sole reason of why the wizarding world was so much backward compared to the Muggle one - neglecting to mention the population effect, which in Harry's opinion should obviously be the dominant one in any case. There was something strange about the way people were simply not curious about these questions. Harry could not quite place it, but thinking about these unanswered questions filled him with a powerful sense of unease.

Harry realized he had been lost in thought for far too long when he glimpsed the thestrals gliding through the lake, dragging the boats full of students with them. It was time for him to make his way into the castle and to the Great Hall.


	3. Rowena Ravenclaw

"_The Hogwarts Express was acquired in 1830, following the suggestion of Minister Gambol, in a large-scale operation involving 167 Memory Charms and the biggest Concealment Charm ever performed in Britain. Minister Gambol was widely regarded as a controversial figure for her affinity for muggle technology, and proposed the Hogwarts Express as a solution to Hogwarts' transportation problems under the Statute of Secrecy as an alternative to portkeys (which made many students greatly uncomfortable due to portkey sickness, and proved to be generally unreliable over time) and flooing (which was opposed by successive Headmasters of Hogwarts due to leaving an open avenue for potential infiltrators of the school to exploit.)_"

Harry leaned forward in the chair he had been sitting on for the past hour, placed his elbows on the desk and his head between his hands. From the corner of his eye he could see Madam Pince, the librarian, being generally unpleasant to a first year student who'd made the grave mistake of assuming that the books in the library were there to be read by the students and not to be kept from any and all prying eyes by the ever-watchful Hogwarts librarian.

Not interested in the quarrel taking place between the student and Pince for the moment, Harry turned his attention back to the book he had been reading. The short explanation of the origins of the Express given by the book did not make sense to him, and there were also obvious problems with chronology. The Statute of Secrecy was established in 1692, whereas the Hogwarts Express was acquired in 1830. That would mean whatever problems were attributed to alternative modes of transport had been there for 138 years by the time Minister Gambol's administration got around to stealing an entire railroad stretching from London to Scotland from an unsuspecting British railroad company. If the problems were as insurmountable as the book made them sound, how is it possible that the Board of Governors of the school did not take some action to alleviate the situation?

On another note, Harry felt it wouldn't be terribly difficult to infiltrate the school even if one had to do so by taking the Hogwarts Express. Judicious use of the Polyjuice potion and some expertise in stealth and disillusionment charms should be enough to slip past any defender in the commotion. Why were Headmasters of the school at the time so certain that the Express did not pose a security breach in the way that opening a Floo connection to the public once every year did?

Harry had managed to find a window of opportunity to ask Professor Flitwick, his Head of House, about the history of the Hogwarts Express; who recommended him the book he had been reading for the past half an hour. It had some information he did not know beforehand, but as was becoming a common occurence these days, Harry stood up from his seat and left the library for the Ravenclaw common room, feeling unsatisfied with what he had managed to discover. He had initially been hopeful that some of his many questions would be answered at Hogwarts, if not by the enormous assortment of books present in the school library, then by one of the teachers. However, as Harry had suspected in advance, his ability to perceive the happenings within the Shroud was a rare gift that nobody else in the school appeared to have, and one that no book in the non-restricted part of the library made any mention of. Harry could not explain why, but as time went on, he felt more and more apprehensive about divulging too much about his unique perspective on magic.

Over the past month since the start of the school term, he had also become increasingly suspicious of a connection between Quirinus Quirrell, the stuttering Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; and the Dark Lord. Harry did not know anything about curse scars (especially ones left by the Killing Curse), but his scar would sometimes burn painfully in close proximity to Quirrell, and he was the only person who elicited this reaction from the scar. He suspected Quirrell may have been a Death Eater in the past, but he was too young for that to be possible (he'd been 11 years old when the Wizarding War ended in 1981). Harry also knew that Severus Snape, the Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin House, had been a Death Eater; but his scar did not react in any way to his presence. This suggested that the connection between Quirrell and the Dark Lord was somehow very close, and Harry did not know what to make of this conjecture.

For a moment, Harry appreciated the irony of trying to protect Hogwarts from infiltration by means of the Hogwarts Express, only for a close follower of the Dark Lord to sneak into the school under the guise of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. A bold method to be sure, but Harry had already told both Flitwick and Dumbledore about the reaction of his scar in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Dumbledore appeared to pay it no mind, but Dumbledore was no fool, and Harry knew Dumbledore already suspected some duplicity on Quirrell's part. This made his lack of action bizarre, unless Dumbledore had already planned for this eventuality...? Harry shook his head. He had no interest in getting himself tangled in an outlandish game of wits between Quirinus Quirrell and Albus Dumbledore.

For now, he was more interested in trying to understand why it was that wands appeared to resist transfiguration of different elements to gold and silver, while transfiguration of carbon to iron seemed to be very easy. Of course, he had asked Professor McGonagall about this and received a lecture on how everything from the number of syllables in the names of the objects being transfigured to their subjective value in the eyes of the wizard influenced the ease with which the transfiguration could be carried out, which intrigued Harry for all of the wrong reasons. The only real natural constraint on transfiguration was conservation of mass - everything else was a matter of precision and knowledge. However, when actually casting transfiguration spells with his wand, Harry could feel that the wand was generally reluctant to turn less valuable elements into more valuable ones, and it outright refused to transfigure other metals to gold and silver. In other words, Professor McGonagall was right, but her comments applied, as most of what he learned did, specifically to spells cast with the aid of a wand. Harry found the fact that his wand seemed to follow the eccentric theory described by the Professor exceedingly curious, since he knew that in principle turning carbon into iron was no less difficult than turning iron into gold.

The best hypothesis Harry could come up with was that the creator of the base transfiguration spells thought the status of gold as a rare commodity should be maintained, lest the entire monetary system of the wizarding world be destroyed by hyperinflation. He did not share this theory with anyone, but privately he thought it made sense - if he himself were to design wands in the present environment, he would almost certainly take the same precautions. The social and political upheaval that would result from hyperinflation would be much worse in the wizarding world than it could ever be in the muggle one, since most wealthy wizarding families had a habit of storing a significant fraction of their wealth in the form of gold.

With these thoughts on his mind, Harry entered the common room and made his way to his own room - thankfully, Ravenclaw students did not have to share rooms, so he did not have to deal with any company. He sat down in front of his desk, picked up one of the dozens of matches lying on the desk, and began his nightly practice of transfiguring a match to a needle without the aid of a wand. He was still nowhere near able to actually perform the transfiguration without a wand, but the exercise proved to be a surprisingly good way of improving his precision and control in general.

He had discovered early on that the incapability of his yearmates to lift an object off the ground with a simple Levitation Charm did not stem solely from their inability to perform the wand movements and speak the incantation precisely. Harry was still not certain exactly _how _he contributed to the process of casting a spell, but he discovered in the past month that as practice improved his precision when manipulating the Shroud, spells that he cast with a wand also came easier to him, and their effects became more pronounced. There was a similar effect of better understanding the mechanism behind a specific spell. Since he had many years of experience and the ability to actually sense what he was doing within the Shroud, it was no wonder that spells came much more easily to him than they did to other students.

After an hour of practice, Harry walked up to the window in his room to look at the scenery. It was beautiful in a way that was difficult to describe. The trees in the Forest; endlessly complex, detailed, each one unique in its own way with its own fractal-like structure of branches and leaves. The lake, housing many wondrous creatures in its depths and the reflection of the half-moon glowing brightly on its surface. The moon, so far away for a human and yet so close for a ray of light, pushing and pulling on the currents of water across the Earth through the simple and yet boundlessly complex force of gravity. The stars twinkling in the night sky, the barest traces of the galaxy visible in this place away from the light pollution of modern civilization. There was something deeply humbling and yet empowering about the view; reminding one just how tiny they are compared to the universe, how crude their achievements are compared to the ones of nature; and as a consequence how much there is still to explore, to discover, to create, to learn. Harry was simply lost in the moment, appreciating the majestic view when he felt it.

It was like a soft whisper blowing through the Shroud; gentle, and yet insistent; brushing against him. He received the impression that the presence was seeking to form a connection, but unwilling to try to do so unless he allowed it. The whisper somehow felt familiar, and yet he was sure he had never seen it before in his life. Feeling a mixture of curiosity and wariness, he carefully lowered the defenses he had developed the habit of maintaining after the incident aboard the Express. The whisper made contact, and he heard in his mind a woman's voice, soft, but with an ethereal quality to it. "_If you want answers, let your senses guide you to the room where hidden things rest..._"

Under any other circumstance, Harry would've been wary of following such a nebulous guide, but at this point he had so many questions and so few answers that he was willing to take the risk of following the lead of his mysterious benefactor. It was a few minutes until curfew, so he quickly cast silencing and disillusionment charms on himself and made his way outside the common room and down Ravenclaw Tower. Once outside, he followed the path of the thin thread through which the whisper had communicated with him. The thread led him to the left corridor on the seventh floor, opposite a bizarre tapestry depicting a person's attempts to teach trolls ballet. As he approached one of the walls surrounding the corridor, a large door appeared on the wall, and the thread led him inside.

As soon as he stepped into the room, his senses were overwhelmed by the richness and magnitude of the vibrations of the Shroud within the room. He gasped and fell to his knees due to the disorientation caused by the sudden shift in his surroundings. Before he could center himself and take a look around the room he'd just stepped into, he heard the whisper from in front of him, but this time the voice came with clarity. "You have come..."

Harry looked up, and in front of him stood a woman in elegant, dark blue robes. She had fair skin and dark hair, her eyes gleaming with knowledge beyond Harry's imagination. She stood tall and firm, her posture graceful, and yet subtly threatening. Every witch and wizard in Britain would recognize her at a glance. With unconcealed shock and awe in his voice, Harry whispered "Lady Ravenclaw... how..?"

She seemed amused at his befuddlement, but she explained regardless. "In some ways I am, and in others I am not. There are ways one can avoid death, young one. My untimely passing was a result of... failed experimentation. I had taken precautions beforehand to help guide the ones who would follow in my footsteps."

Harry shook his head, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He had to calm down to navigate this situation properly. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and stood up. He asked the first question that came to mind. "Follow in your footsteps?"

"Yes, young one. You have already come further than I had expected." She saw the confusion on his face, so she continued: "You already know what I mean by what I say. It is a calling to people like you and I, one we cannot resist for long. It is the call of the mysteries of nature..."

Harry understood what she meant, so he did not inquire further. Instead, he decided to ask about what he had come here in pursuit of to begin with. "You said you would have answers."

Ravenclaw chuckled. "I cannot answer every question you have, young one, but I believe I can be of assistance regarding some matters."

Harry's mind was reeling with all of the things he wanted to know, and for some time he was unable to decide which question to ask first. Finally, he resolved to ask about the first mystery he encountered after making his entrance to the wizarding world. "What can you tell me about wands and how they are able to cast spells?"

Ravenclaw's expression shifted from amused to serious in an instant upon hearing the question. She looked as if she was thinking about how best to answer the question for several moments before she responded. "The origin of wands is a mystery even to me, they came before my time. I've discovered many things about them through my own endeavors. I believe you already know that wands are alive in some rudimentary form?"

"Yes."

"They do not store the knowledge of spells within them, they access it from a database. The information itself is stored in high frequency modes of vibration in... less sensitive dimensions of the Veil."

Harry was surprised that he finally got a direct and clear answer to a question he had in mind for some time, but then he noticed some oddities about Ravenclaw's vocabulary. She spoke about the subject using modern language, which meant she had somehow maintained contact with the muggle world in her state and knew of their discoveries. She also referred to "the Veil", which Harry suspected was her name for what he called the Shroud. He was too impatient to spend more time thinking, so he pressed on. "What is it that wandmakers do, exactly?"

With this question, Ravenclaw began laughing uproariously, which startled Harry. She seemed to have a habit of changing moods very quickly. After she calmed down, amidst some chuckles still escaping her, she explained. "They do not know what they do. Wands are produced using wood taken from trees which were genetically and magically modified in the past to have a nervous system permeating throughout them. They then use part of a magical creature to fuel the resonance process which creates vibrations in the Veil, serving as a presence for the wand. I was able to replicate the modification of the trees through much effort, but I couldn't discover the creator of the originals."

While Ravenclaw's explanation made more sense than anything Harry had been able to come up with on his own, it also had a certain surreality to it owing to the fact that it implied nobody in the wizarding world had any clue what they were doing. Harry was already inclined towards this conclusion, but his belief was becoming firmer every time Ravenclaw answered one of his questions. "How is it possible that they are so ignorant? If you had this knowledge when Hogwarts was founded, how come I am unable to find any references for it today?"

Once again, Ravenclaw's mood shifted instantly, and her expression darkened, her eyes betraying a torrent of different emotions. "Most do not see the Veil, not like you and I do. I told many about my discoveries, but most of what I'd written was unfalsifiable and lacked utility for those who were not able to see the Veil for themselves. I don't know the fate of the works I left out in the world for people to find, but I suspect in the end their true value went unseen and they fell into the hands of those unworthy of their secrets."

Harry did not know why, but the idea of so much priceless knowledge being lost because of some close-minded and ignorant fools evoked a feeling of intense loathing and disgust in him for a brief moment. When he cleared his mind once again, he saw that the floor was littered with broken pieces of glass and the wooden floor had cracks running over it everywhere. Ravenclaw was looking at him directly and intently with an expression he could not decipher. After a few seconds of confusion, he realized what must've happened. "I apologize, I must've... lost control."

Ravenclaw, however, seemed unperturbed by the outburst. "It is of no consequence. Undoubtedly they were deserving of your... reaction, given the severity of what they have wrought in their foolishness."

After a moment of silence, Harry decided to press on with another question that had been in his mind even before his venture into the wizarding world. "What is the difference between a wizard and a muggle?"

His question broke the atmosphere of intensity that had settled in the room after his loss of control, and Ravenclaw's expression softened. "That is a question you should try to answer for yourself. I believe the reason you've been unable to discover the answer is because you have trouble extending your perception within the Veil beyond your immediate vicinity, yes?"

"Indeed, I haven't been able to do so."

"The way to extend the reach of your perception is to send out high frequency waves in the Veil in higher dimensions, which are less strongly coupled with the physical world, and use the reflections to infer the structure, as a radar system would do. The resolution of what you can perceive increases proportionally with the frequency of the waves you're able to send out, and higher frequency waves carry more energy, so you need finer control to use them. The better your overall control, the higher the resolution of your image of the Veil will become."

Harry had already tried this method some time ago, however, and found that to get anything resembling a clear picture, he needed a level of control which was beyond his ability. In other words, Ravenclaw was simply telling him to improve his control. "I had this idea already, but my control was too imprecise to achieve anything worthwhile with it. Should I keep practicing, or are there faster ways to improve my control?"

Ravenclaw pondered the question for a moment, then responded. "Control is not merely a matter of knowledge, but also a matter of the structure of the soul. Some are more fluid, less viscous than others, they are able to deform and affect change around them in the Shroud easily... and some are of high complexity and resolution, allowing for more precise acts of manipulation. The structure is affected by practice, and it can also be affected by more... forceful means... but using forceful means on one's soul is a risk that's rarely worth the reward it will bring."

It took Harry a moment to realize that Ravenclaw had answered more than his question about control with what she said. However, as usual, it led to more questions. "What do you know about the heritability of soul structure?"

Ravenclaw had been expecting this question, apparently, since she answered without any pause. "In my own experiments I found that viscosity is highly heritable, it is the primary reason why squibs and muggleborns are so rare. Other aspects of structure appear to be much less heritable in comparison."

Harry was about to follow up on this line of inquiry further when he remembered the hostile ward conundrum that he was still unable to solve, despite extensive perusal of the resources of the library on the subject of warding. Harry had been unable to identify any ward in the reference books whatsoever which would respond like the one on the Express did. He now had the best opportunity to resolve this matter once and for all in his mind. Before doing so, he wanted to establish how much Ravenclaw actually knew about the situation outside of this room. "How much do you know about the state of the wizarding world today?"

"My existence is... bound to the ring on the pedestal behind me." With that proclamation, Ravenclaw stepped aside to reveal a pedestal behind her, with a ring adorned with a blue sapphire lying on top of it. "The ring is a soul container I created as a precaution in case the experiment I mentioned earlier failed, in which case I ran the risk of brain death. It is similar to a wand in that it is capable of generating consciousness, but I paid a price in spiritual fluidity for my failure. It is only within highly excited environments like this room that I am able to do anything other than being passively conscious without any awareness. Because of this limitation I haven't been able to leave this room, but I'd designed the room with this possibility in mind, so it has been able to provide me with newspapers, books and means to observe the castle."

Harry found it rather astonishing that such a feat was even achievable, but he could always learn more about it later. For now, he would focus on the problem at hand. It was safe to assume in this case that Ravenclaw at least knew what the Hogwarts Express was, so Harry decided to ask the question directly. "When I got inside the Hogwarts Express a month ago, I felt the presence of what I am now certain were offensive wards of some kind. I tried in vain to identify their purpose, but I haven't been successful so far. Could you help me?"

Ravenclaw looked surprised by this request. "Have you requested the assistance of another regarding this matter?"

"No. I don't know who to trust with this information - if there were indeed offensive wards placed on the Express, then I doubt a single person would've been able to install and maintain them while avoiding detection. The situation is too suspicious, and the only advantage I believe I have is that they did not expect anyone to resist the wards. It's too much of a risk to reveal the information to anyone who may be complicit in the situation."

"You've demonstrated good judgement, then. This is an unprecedented situation, and it must be handled with extreme caution. You've done well to seek assistance from me. Now, the easiest way for me to attempt to identify the wards is to look at your memories of the experience. Concentrate on the moments at which you felt the pressure of the wards, and allow me to use the link between us to view the experience for myself."

Harry nodded, closed his eyes and focused on his memory of boarding the Express.

"_He felt it as soon as he stepped fully into the train. A presence within the Shroud permeated the space in which he stood, and it tried to form a connection with its soul similar to the one he had formed with his wand. However, while his wand felt warm, comforting and empowering; this presence felt oppressive and hostile. It was much worse than the attempts of unsuitable wands to form a connection, and for a moment Harry was afraid of making a scene in front of so many people - drawing even more attention to himself was not what he wanted to do at this moment. Instead of reacting violently, he tempered his reaction with great effort, and pushed out the presence as gently and silently as he could. As soon as he managed to completely block out the threat, he immediately stepped off the train and went back onto the platform. The hostile presence promptly disappeared._"

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw Ravenclaw staring at him with a look of shock and disbelief. She did not seem inclined to say anything, which made Harry wonder just what she had recognized about the wards. "Did you recognize them?"

Ravenclaw silently nodded. What she said next led to the same look of shock and disbelief appearing on Harry's face. "Mental and spiritual manipulation wards."


	4. Never Again

_When Harry opened his eyes, he saw Ravenclaw staring at him with a look of shock and disbelief. She did not seem inclined to say anything, which made Harry wonder just what she had recognized about the wards. "Did you recognize them?"_

_Ravenclaw silently nodded. What she said next led to the same look of shock and disbelief appear on Harry's face. "Mental and spiritual manipulation wards."_

* * *

For fifteen seconds, the pair stood in silence in the middle of the room, independently trying to work out all of the implications of this discovery. It was Harry who broke the silence.

"I can't stay here."

Ravenclaw was about to make the same remark, so she was pleasantly surprised that Harry had understood the circumstances on his own. "Indeed, it would be most unwise of you to spend further time in the castle in light of this discovery. I believe you have already spent too much - it may simply be good fortune that I succeeded in my efforts to reach out to you before _they _did."

Harry nodded. The situation was clear. The hostility one would sense from such a ward was proportionate to the magnitude of the change the ward would attempt to perform. The unique hostility of the wards towards Harry, along with their lack of success, meant that whoever placed the wards on the Express was most likely already aware of their failure. Given that using mental manipulation wards on fellow wizards was a crime punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban (comparable to the Imperius curse), Harry had to assume the worst about the motivations of the unknown ward-weavers. The fact that they were able to secretly place and maintain such highly illegal wards on a setting as public as the Hogwarts Express meant they were in a position of significant power. The only way Harry could be safe under such circumstances was if he took refuge in a location where he could not be found, at least until a time he was able to defend himself against any potential attackers.

Harry was overwhelmed by just how much his life had changed in the last few minutes, but the situation had to be handled with caution, not with panic. Once again he went through the exercises to clear his mind and spoke. "I don't know of any place in which I could be confident in my safety. I'm afraid I may have to impose on your generosity further - do you know of such a location?"

Ravenclaw seemed to be amused once again, which did quite a lot to calm Harry's nerves, which he was barely able to keep under control given the circumstances. "Yes, I had prepared an emergency for a situation in which the castle may be compromised, but I must admit that I'd never anticipated it would be used under these circumstances. The ring you see on the pedestal is also charmed to be a portkey - it will take you to an ancient manor I had purchased and warded during the Founding years. I have not been too negligent in my care over the past millennium, so the living conditions should be more than adequate for your purposes. It has the added benefit of having a rather substantial library which I imagine you will appreciate far more than the one here at the castle."

Harry was not sure if he should bless his good fortune for giving him this opportunity or curse his bad luck for managing to find himself in the crosshairs of a mysterious group of expert ward-weavers with no compunctions about breaking the law. This was not what he had planned for the night, but knowing what he knew now, even the simple task of going back to his room to retrieve his belongings was extremely risky.

It was while thinking about this risk that Harry recalled another conundrum that he'd been unable to resolve, and one that could potentially be related to the problem of the Express. "Before we proceed, I have one more question which I believe is urgent. What can you tell me about cursed scars caused by the Killing Curse?"

Ravenclaw looked at him as if he had grown two heads and five arms. "The Killing Curse does not cause scars - ah, you must be referring to the drivel about how the Dark Lord Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on you and how it rebounded that I once read about."

Harry blinked. That was not the reaction he was expecting, but it was clear from Ravenclaw's attitude that this story did not fit the mechanism of the Killing Curse at all. "I'm sorry, milady, but I am woefully uneducated on the subject of the mechanism of the Killing Curse. Would you care to enlighten me?"

Ravenclaw looked like she was torn between whether to be amused at his manner of speaking or give the subject the serious treatment it warranted. Eventually, she began to explain. "The Killing Curse is a spell which aims to disrupt the resonance between your soul in the Veil and your nervous system in the physical world. It is soul magic, in other words, it is accomplished through a direct attack on the target soul in the Veil. Soul magic, for obvious reasons, cannot leave scars on the target directly. It is also impossible for the Killing Curse to rebound and harm its caster - it is one of the rare curses in which the caster temporarily detaches a portion of their own soul to use it to infiltrate the target soul, which is how the resonance disruption is achieved. A Killing Curse which rebounded from its target would have no effect on its caster, it would only return the detached piece of soul where it belonged."

That explanation made a surprising amount of sense, and in retrospect Harry had to admit that the story he had believed until now was flatly inconsistent with the actual mechanics of the Killing Curse. On the other hand, his scar was very much real and it did unnaturally hurt in close proximity to Quirrell, so the conclusion was that the scar had been caused by some other phenomenon which he did not know about. Instead of beating around the bush, he decided to simply tell the entire story to Ravenclaw and see what she would make of it.

Ravenclaw was in a contemplative mood when his explanation was over. She began pacing around the room quietly with a frown on her face. After five minutes, she seemed to reach a conclusion. She turned her face back to him. "I have a conjecture. Clear your mind and fall into a soul trance, then try to focus your attention on the part of the prefrontal cortex underneath the scar and let the rest of the picture fade from your attention. Tell me what you find."

Harry was confused by this request, but nevertheless he obliged. He sat on the floor, crossed his legs, closed his eyes and slowly brought himself into the trance. He did as Ravenclaw instructed, and frowned. What he saw did not make sense. "The fractal structure is... different near the scar. It is as if it was altered by some external force."

Ravenclaw once again looked as if she was torn, this time between satisfaction and concern. "You're close... What you sense is not your own soul that has been altered by external influence, but a foreign one that has found a place for itself in your prefrontal cortex."

Harry was startled out of his trance by this proclamation. "You mean to say that my brain sustains a piece of the Dark Lord's soul?"

Ravenclaw nodded. "Indeed. It also provides an explanation of what happened that night. I believe Lord Voldemort intended to use your murder to create a horcrux - an object similar to the ring I showed you, but hosting only part of a soul instead of the whole. It is not strictly necessary, although somewhat traditional, for this act to be done by taking advantage of the mechanism of the Killing Curse. The process must've somehow been disrupted. Instead of the intended result, the process ripped apart Lord Voldemort's soul in an uncontrolled way, and the ejected piece was drawn to your nervous system; and you did not offer much resistance, most likely because of the highly uncommon lack of viscosity of your soul. The pain you experience in proximity to this professor is best explained if he also carries a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul - they might attempt to rejoin each other, and that would cause you the kind of pain you described."

Harry did not know how many more earth-shattering revelations he could handle this night, but he was not going to stop now. "Is this condition dangerous?"

"Normally it would be, but as I remarked earlier, your soul is rather unusual in its lack of viscosity. It means it is able to adapt to the presence of a foreign soul shard resonating with part of your central nervous system, so there is no direct danger. However, the soul pieces of Lord Voldemort will still share a connection with each other, and that means you and him share a mental and spiritual link which may be exploited by either side for their ends. In that sense, the condition is indeed dangerous, but also potentially rewarding."

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, and determined that the risks of sharing a mental link with the Dark Lord far outweighed the potential benefits. "Is there a way to relocate the soul shard to another object to create a legitimate horcrux?"

Ravenclaw's surprise showed on her face. "You intend to save it?"

"Yes. There is no reason to take drastic action right now, especially under the present circumstances. A piece of the Dark Lord's soul is valuable - too valuable to destroy. It may prove useful in negotiating with the Dark Lord in the future, since now we know for a fact that he is not as dead as I had been led to believe."

Ravenclaw seemed to be satisfied with that answer, but she was not yet done on the subject of Lord Voldemort. "That's a reasonable point of view. To answer your question; yes, it is possible to relocate the soul shard to produce a legitimate horcrux." She paused for a moment, appearing at a loss for words. "You should be cautious in your dealings with him - he reminds me of Salazar."

Harry's interest was piqued by this comment. "How so?"

Ravenclaw's gaze became distant, as if she was recalling memories of a time long past. After a few seconds, her eyes were focused back on him. "He used the same methods that Salazar used in order to acquire a power base for himself. Salazar never believed in the blood purity nonsense; he even knew of the results of my own research on the subject of magical inheritance. He used the propaganda to lure pureblood scions to the school, since their families had the wealth that Hogwarts needed and secret knowledge that Salazar wanted for himself, and used his connections for the benefit of himself and of Hogwarts. His methods worked so well that he managed to permanently tarnish his name in the annals of history by associating it with unfounded blood prejudice drivel. It is surprising to me how people can believe a sorcerer of such skill and intellect as Salazar would subscribe to unsubstantiated and baseless beliefs about blood purity, but I've never been too impressed with the general public at any rate."

Harry hummed. "I've had my own suspicions about the honesty of the Dark Lord's commitment to the cause of blood purity in the past - in fact, in his case the apparent obsession has the added benefit of convincing sane and reasonable people that he is not very intelligent. It is an ingenious strategy."

"Quite. In the end, however, Salazar cared about power for the sake of power; everything else was secondary. That attitude is similar to ours in its simplicity, and yet understanding nature and having power over it are sometimes at odds with one another... It has led to friction between me and Salazar in the past, and you should keep it in mind in your dealings with this ascendant Dark Lord."

Harry felt disappointed that a man as famous as Salazar Slytherin could be so thoroughly misrepresented in the annals of history that people he would've thought were ignorant fools think of him as the champion of their cause. It would be a disgrace to the memory of any man to be treated in that fashion, and when the man in question is Salazar Slytherin the situation made Harry's insides coil with disgust. Harry shook his head and decided that they had spent enough time in the austere room. "Very well, I will keep it in mind. I think we can depart the castle now - I have no intention of risking my life to pick up a few books and robes from my room."

Ravenclaw let out a chuckle at his self-preservation instinct. "We may depart when you're ready. You need to put the ring on and tap the sapphire jewel while focusing on your intent to leave the room. The portkey is designed to be sensitive to intent."

Harry walked up to the pedestal, picked up the ring and focused his intent. He tapped the jewel, and the room vanished in a swirl of colors.

* * *

While Harry Potter and Rowena Ravenclaw were busy having a discussion about the Dark Lord in the Room of Requirement, the Dark Lord himself was busy contemplating the developments of the past month. He had successfully made his way into Hogwarts possessing Quirrell, but the weak man would not last for long under his influence. He had already determined the location of the Stone, but he knew Dumbledore would've laid real traps on his way, not just a Cerberus that could be put to sleep by playing some music using a harp. For now, they were at a stalemate - he was not willing to venture into the room and be a victim of the traps Dumbledore had laid for him, and Dumbledore did not act on his suspicions because he was waiting for him to give into his greed and impatience. It was nerve-wracking, but there was little else to be done. In the worst case scenario, he could go through the indignity of abandoning Quirrell and housing his soul within a homunculus. It would not be pleasant, but he would eventually be able to perform a proper resurrection ritual to regain his body. If he could find a loyal servant willing to help him the process could be expedited, but his most loyal followers were all imprisoned in Azkaban. The ones who managed to avoid imprisonment by pleading they'd been placed under the Imperius curse were opportunists whom he could not trust in his weakened state.

Since he was doing little other than waiting, his thoughts drifted to the Potter boy. From the contents of the prophecy he had expected the boy to be talented, of course, but the boy managed to beat even his rather high expectations of him. From what he had observed in the past month, the boy was prodigiously skilled at every branch of magic he practiced, and he was fascinated by even the simplest acts of magic. The way he sometimes talked about magic or asked questions reminded him of some ancient tomes he had once managed to get his hands on which described the experiences of a sorcerer with a peculiar form of magic-sensitivity. If he was correct in his assumption, this could very well be "the power the Dark Lord knows not".

From what he could observe, the boy did not care about much other than learning. He was reclusive and remarkably isolated from his peers even for a Ravenclaw - in fact, he was probably the only student in the castle who spent more time talking with teachers than he did talking with other students. The boy's personality was so...simple, for the lack of a better word. The Dark Lord was used to manipulating and dealing with people in general, and he was used to people having deep-seated insecurities, hidden fears and desires, secrets in their past that they were ashamed of; they were vulnerabilities that he could exploit to lead them into doing as he wished. The Potter boy, however, was different. The simplicity and straightforwardness of his personality was unusual. In fact, everything about the boy was unusual; and the Dark Lord was not even sure if the boy would stand against him when the time comes.

He tried to observe some of the other students who showed some promise, especially older students in Slytherin House, since they would be prime targets for recruitment once he regained his body; but his thoughts kept drifting to the Potter boy. His initial interest had bloomed into an obsession, and he had even taken to observing the boy in the library when he could. It was through these observations that he discovered the unusual amount of time the boy spent reading about the history of the Hogwarts Express. Had it been any other student he would've dismissed it, but he was sure there was a reason behind Harry Potter's fixation on the subject. On one occasion he pretended to intrude upon his reading accidentally and asked him what he found so interesting about the subject. He still remembered his peculiar response word for word:

"_Isn't it strange, Professor, that when there are so many viable options for magical transportation from the Platform to the castle, Hogwarts chooses a muggle method which is slow and highly exposed to danger of an attack, from the inside or outside, while en route? One wonders about Minister Minchum's motivations for refusing to consider alternatives even during the War. I simply find it... curious._"

Of course, the Dark Lord remembered Harold Minchum's strange obsession with the Express that even got the Unspeakables involved, but at the time the Hogwarts Express was one of the furthest things from his mind. The scions of many pureblood families attended Hogwarts at the time, and they would've been on board and therefore at risk during any potential attack; not to mention that there was simply nothing to gain through such wanton slaughter. To this day he was still not sure why the incompetent Minchum acted as he did. However, he did not understand why the boy believed this inconsequential action to be significant in some way. He was certain the boy knew more than he was letting on.

He had once again spent too much time thinking about Harry Potter and not enough about how to deal with the stalemate between him and Dumbledore. He had to focus if he was to beat Dumbledore at his own game; he could not afford distractions. Distractions... yes... perhaps the right approach was to stage a distraction and test the defenses around the Stone by using compulsion charms on some unsuspecting students...

* * *

When Harry stepped on solid ground after ten seconds of spinning, he was standing inside a library. A massive circular library with ten floors, the walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books. He walked up to one of the shelves on the ground floor, and was surprised when he saw the titles of the books: _Algebraic Number Theory _by Neukirch, _Basic Algebraic Geometry _by Shafarevich, _Introduction to Smooth Manifolds _by Lee...

"I see you've found your way to the mathematics section of the library."

Harry turned around to see Ravenclaw standing at the center of the library, looking at him with amusement evident in her expression. "I was pleasantly surprised that the library contained books on actual mathematics given the disposition of the average wizard towards the subject, but I should've known better than to compare you to the average wizard."

"Indeed, you should have." Ravenclaw's tone was one of mock-admonishment. She started walking along the circumference of the ground floor. "The library contains books on a wide variety of subjects, from both the magical and the muggle worlds. Most of them were obtained through extensive application of book copying charms, although some are originals and only copies. The library was here before the rest of the manor, which you'll find to be quite modest. The original purpose of this hiding place was to serve as a stash of valuable books and artifacts, after all." She stopped walking, and looked at him intently. "You may be surprised by the contents of some of the older books in the library. It is... difficult to express the extent to which the wizarding world has regressed in knowledge and understanding after the Founding, and the regression only accelerated following the enactment of the Statute of Secrecy."

Harry returned Ravenclaw's intent gaze with his own. "Regressed?"

For the first time, Harry saw traces of sorrow in Ravenclaw's dark eyes. "Surely my mentions of genetic experimentation, my understanding of the dynamics of the Veil, my familiarity with physics did not go unnoticed by you? When Hogwarts was founded, while the Veil and its dynamics were unknown, wizards already had knowledge of electromagnetism, of natural selection, of celestial mechanics; some were even working on the beginnings of what would today be called quantum mechanics. The ability to use magic was a boon which greatly accelerated progress in the wizarding world compared to the muggle one, despite our inferior numbers. The subjects I mention were of course not _common _knowledge, but the subjects were known to the wizarding community as a whole."

Harry was afraid to hear the answer to his next question. "What happened?"

Ravenclaw shook her head. "I am not sure. My access to outside information became limited to certain channels following my... failure. The regression happened slowly; first, the rate of new discoveries slowed down until it ground to a halt in mathematics and the natural sciences. Then, interest in these disciplines began to fade, and the subjects slowly disappeared from the memory of the wizarding community. By the time of the ratification of the Statute of Secrecy, the wizarding world had regressed and the muggles had advanced enough that their understanding of nature was on par with one another. After that, the wizards made absolutely no progress while the muggles went beyond what we had managed to achieve at the peak of our civilization."

Harry felt weak in his knees and stumbled his way onto a nearby chair. "How... how is that possible?" He didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept that the medieval wizarding world he had been a part of for two months had once been a great civilization. He felt nothing but honesty from Ravenclaw, however, and if she was right then the evidence of what she said was right here in this library.

Ravenclaw was not doing much better than he was, her face showed clear signs of her sorrow and pain. "There isn't any explanation I can provide which will be satisfactory. All I can say is that it happened, and the library reminds me of that fact every time I make my way inside. So much has been lost, and this single library is perhaps the only monument commemorating the event."

Harry did not feel like he could stand upright. He closed his eyes, tried to clear his mind, but he was unsuccessful. How could this have happened? How could an entire civilization simply... fade into obscurity? There was no large-scale conflict, no pandemic, no asteroid impact. Was it complacency that led them down the path of regression, or was it something else?

What if it happened again?

_No._

That simple thought banished all of the concerns from his mind. He felt strength return to his body, and he stood up. For this one moment, there was only one thing that mattered to him, only one thought that occured to him. He locked eyes with Ravenclaw, his eyes burning with determination.

"It won't happen again. _I won't let it happen again._"

While looking into the depths of Harry Potter's emerald green eyes, Rowena Ravenclaw felt hope for the first time in five hundred years.


	5. Learning, Part 1

**This chapter features multiple time-skips.**

* * *

"_Lord Malfoy has a way with words few others do, no doubt, but for all of his posturing and rhetoric, all he does is embellish the truth. This is war we're talking about! How many of our brothers and sisters need to suffer at the hands of those ignoble Muggles until some members of this esteemed body see the light and decide that enough is enough? How many, I ask you! How many would you see burned alive, tortured and murdered in the vilest ways imaginable until your pride is sated?_"

"_It is not for our own pride that we recommend this course of action, Lord Potter. You know this. Your righteous indignation would be better targeted at the filthy Muggles who dare to lay their hands on our fellow witches and wizards!_"

"_Indignation at the Muggles will not stop the horrors they inflict on us. If we go to war with the Muggles, many more of our kind will suffer at their hands! Why do you refuse to consider cutting our ties with them? Is it because you won't be able to enjoy the finer things in life among the royal courts of Europe once the Statute is in effect, Lord Malfoy?_"

"_You dare to accuse me of such indignity in these halls, Lord Potter?! Do not presume even for a second that my concern for my fellow witches and wizards is any less geniune than yours! You suggest that we run from them, that we hide like cowards after what they have done to us. What they are still doing to us at this very moment! You would have us betray the sacrifice of our brothers and sisters, you would let their deaths be for nothing!_"

"_Revenge will not bring back those who were lost, Lord Malfoy. In your revenge, all you will achieve is further loss, further destruction. That is the true betrayal of the sacrifice you speak of. We have a means of ensuring that our brothers and sisters will no longer have to suffer at the hands of those who wish them harm. The least you can do to honor their sacrifice is to consider it._"

"_The court recognizes Lord Black._"

"_Thank you, Chief Warlock. As amusing as it may be to witness this quarrel, I feel the discussion is in dire need of a voice of reason. Lord Potter, I do not believe that Lord Malfoy's refusal to support your proposal is entirely because of his desire for revenge, which I must add is shared by many in this court. It is also out of concern born from observation of recent history. The Muggles may not have the capacity to perform magic, but their achievements in the recent past are undeniable. If their advancements continue at their current pace, in the future it may prove impossible for us to hope for a victory against them. If at some point in the future they develop a means of breaching whatever measures we are able to take to ensure our secrecy from them, we may find ourselves in dire circumstances indeed. It may simply be the best course of action to strike now, when we have the capacity to win in open warfare, rather than wait and find ourselves at a disadvantage."_

"_This is a legitimate concern, Lord Black. You have my thanks for bringing it to the court's attention. I believe we may mitigate the risks you've identified by the creation of a body specializing in research and development with access to an appropriate amount of funding. The reason behind our current predicament is the general lack of interest in and, by extension, lack of available resources for technological development. With the aid of magic, we would certainly be able to outcompete Muggle researchers._"

"_Your project is ambitious, Lord Potter. If it were to be successful I would have much less trepidation about supporting the Statute you've proposed. If you have further ideas on how such a body should be organized, I believe this court would be interested in hearing them._"

"_Of course, Lord Black. I believe the current feudal system of organization of Britain will prove to be a hindrance to the enforcement of the Statute, so I would propose the establishment of a Ministry which would handle the executive affairs of government, while this court will continue its responsibilities in legislative and judicial matters. The body I have mentioned would be a department of this Ministry having special privileges due to its unique importance - further details of organization will have to be worked out by this court, but I do have in mind a name for this body._"

"_You have thought this through, I see. Very well, Lord Potter. If your proposal is approved by this court, it is only fair to give you the chance to name this department, and I believe my fellow members will concur. What is the name you have in mind?_"

"_The Department of Mysteries._"

\- from the transcript of the session of the Wizengamot held in May 16th, 1645

* * *

Harry closed the large tome containing transcripts of every Wizengamot session held between 1610 and 1689. What he'd read shed a lot of light on the founding and the responsibilities of the Department of Mysteries, but it was peculiar that this information which was available in transcripts of a Wizengamot session was not contained in any of the history books he had scoured in the past to obtain some information about the history of the mysterious department. The only reasonable explanation was that these transcripts were not, in fact, public knowledge; which made him curious about how exactly they had ended up in Ravenclaw's library.

Looking up, he saw that Ravenclaw was engrossed in... something. She was seated on a chair across him on the same desk and she was staring intently at a piece of paper with some scribblings on it. "Milady, if I may have a moment of your time?"

She was startled out of her reverie by his voice and looked up from the piece of paper she had been staring at for the past twenty minutes. "Did you have a question for me?"

Harry put one of his hands on top of the book in front of him. "Yes. How did this book come to be present in the library?"

Ravenclaw looked at the title of the book and then frowned. "I don't remember taking any special measures to bring the book to the library. It was through the method I employed most of the time - mild compulsion charms on unsuspecting Hogwarts students to lead them into acquiring the material and then dropping it off at predetermined spots I'd designed for the purpose of producing a copy of the material in the library. These transcripts arrived separately, and I took the time to archive them into books so that they would be more easily stored."

Now it was Harry's turn to frown in thought. "Some of the transcripts I came across in this book contain information that I've never encountered in any other source covering the same subjects. I have reason to believe that they were not available for public perusal."

"That's not possible - if the transcripts are contained in the library, they must've been available for public access at the time they arrived here. I did not have the ability to cast strong enough compulsions beyond the Room of Requirement to manipulate wizards who were in a position to have access to classified records."

It was another mystery, then. Harry wondered briefly whether he may find any information in his family vault at Gringotts, since by an act of fate Ralston Potter, who proposed both the Statute of Secrecy and the establishment of the Department of Mysteries, was one of his paternal ancestors. However, he was not enthusiastic to leave the safety of the library and venture out into Diagon Alley on what may prove to be a wild goose chase. The uproar about his sudden disappearance from Hogwarts had still not died down after one year if the Daily Prophet was any guide. It may be an avenue of investigation to explore in the future, perhaps, but now was not the time for such adventures.

"In that case I doubt we will be able to resolve this new mystery anytime soon. I've already spent too much time in the past few days going over these transcripts. I should get back to more productive endeavors. Do you have any suggestions?"

Ravenclaw furrowed her brows in contemplation, then thought of an idea. "I may have an interesting one. First, tell me the mechanism of the Cruciatus curse."

"The caster produces high frequency vibrations in the Shroud around the target soul and directs them towards critical points in order to cause maximum suffering. It is a very delicate mechanism, especially since different souls have different points that need to be attacked to produce the effect of the curse."

"Correct. Now, did you ever wonder what else you could achieve using the same technique?"

Harry frowned. "I have not."

Ravenclaw's expression suddenly turned malicious with glee, and Harry gulped in fear. That particular facial expression was always followed by Ravenclaw doing something which resulted in Harry being miserable for several hours afterwards. "Well, we can't have that, can we? There's _so much _that one can accomplish with this technique..." She stood up, and motioned for Harry to do the same, and led him to the center of the room.

She turned to face him. "This may or may not be a pleasant experience, depending on one's interpretation of the concept." She raised her wand, and Harry stiffened in anticipation and anxiety. He had no idea what was coming. Ravenclaw pointed the wand straight at Harry and incanted "_Euphorio._"

Harry felt the defenses he maintained around his soul being breached at several points, and a moment later his senses were assaulted by the strongest wave of pleasure he had experienced in his life. His muscles gave way and he collapsed to the ground. He could not think, could not move, could not speak. His senses were completely overloaded, and he was in a timeless haze of pleasure and bliss.

Just as suddenly as it had crashed upon him, the wave of pleasure vanished and Harry regained control of his body and mind. He spent a minute organizing his jumbled thoughts before he remembered what they had been doing. He stood up and almost lost his balance while Ravenclaw was looking at him with mirth. When he finally managed to regain his bearings completely, Ravenclaw began explaining without any further prodding from Harry.

"The Curse of Bliss, incantation _euphorio_. It employs the same mechanism as the Cruciatus, but for the purpose of causing maximum pleasure instead of maximum pain. It is soul magic, of course, and similarly difficult to resist due to the subtle nature of the spiritual infiltration it employs. Of course, as it is the case with the Cruciatus, prolonged exposure to the Curse of Bliss can cause irreversible spiritual and mental damage to the target. Many sorcerers fell prey to its temptation in the past, holding the curse on themselves until they were reduced to a vegetative state. It is much less popular among practicioners of offensive soul magic, but personally I've always been of the opinion that the Curse of Bliss is far more dangerous than the Cruciatus Curse. Even seconds of exposure have driven many insane in pursuit of the pleasure the curse produces."

Harry had to agree that there was something eerily sinister about the thought of losing your sense of self in pleasure rather than in pain. The sensation produced by the curse was... indescribable. He asked the first question that was on his mind. "How long was I under the curse for?"

"I held you under the curse for a full minute." Seeing Harry's stupefied expression, Ravenclaw continued her explanation without pause. "Due to the rather unique qualities of your soul, you're unusually resistant to all forms of soul magic. A minute of exposure to the Curse of Bliss would've driven most wizards insane, but you're barely affected by it once it has been lifted."

Harry was used to Ravenclaw's eccentric methods of instruction by now, so the explanation was enough to calm him down. "I suspect there is a whole array of similar curses which are designed to induce different states of emotion in the target?"

"Indeed. There is the Nightmare Curse, incantation _formidilio_, which induces an extreme and irrational state of fear in the target, for instance. Legend has it that these curses were developed by Herpo the Foul in his attempts to make advances in methods of soul manipulation. He is also credited with the invention of the horcrux, as you know." Ravenclaw paused. "Do you have any further questions?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, and was struck by a sudden flash of inspiration. "Would it be possible to force a connection to the target soul while simultaneously using this method of soul manipulation to induce certain emotions in the target?"

Ravenclaw's surprise at his question showed on her face, and Harry got the impression that she knew exactly why Harry was asking this question. Nevertheless, she feigned ignorance. "Yes, it would be possible. Why would you want to do such a thing?"

"Forming a connection with a target soul allows you to witness their conscious experience in a contained manner, and soul manipulation of the kind employed in the mechanism of these curses can be used to indirectly bring what the caster wants to the target's consciousness. The combination could then be used as a method of information and memory extraction."

Harry got the impression that Ravenclaw was impressed. "I believe you've rediscovered the art of legilimency."

It was not surprising to Harry that he was not the first to think of this mechanism, but it was surprising that this was the first time he had heard the word "legilimency". He thought there must be a good reason behind the apparent obscurity of this branch of soul magic. "Is this subject particularly esoteric, or was I simply not fortunate enough to discover it in my exploration of the library?"

"It is esoteric, and the reason should not be surprising to you. The mechanism of legilimency is so imprecise and contains so many variables that differ from case to case that even with the aid of a wand, most are unable to accomplish it. It is easy to point your wand at someone and incant '_legilimens_' to perform the spell associated to the mechanism, but it is difficult to guide it properly and interpret the results correctly. It can only be performed by sorcerers of remarkable intellect and control, and it's impossible to learn how to do it by reading books, which is why there aren't many texts on the subject. The way to learn it is through practice, which ends up being a unique experience for each practicioner."

Harry hummed. He now knew what to do with the rest of his day. "If I may be so presumptuous as to ask, milady, would you allow me to practice this art on you?"

Ravenclaw was going to suggest this anyway, since it was a subject Harry needed to know and there wasn't anyone else to practice it on. "That should not be a problem." Seeing Harry's enthusiasm, she thought there was no need to make him wait any longer. "We may begin when you're ready."

Harry nodded silently, then pointed his wand at the ring on his ring finger and incanted "_Legilimens_."

* * *

"_The confusion on the matter of the nature of the Dark Arts and of Dark wizards has, in recent years, reached a point that I find it necessary to add some comments to this book on the subject. The terminology has reached a point of lacking any meaning at this point, but when the term 'Dark wizard' became popular, it was used to refer to sorcerers whose control over their magic was developed to the point that their presence could not be sensed easily by others. Sorcerers with such a substantial amount of control over their magic could use chaotic techniques to amplify the effects of their spells beyond normal levels, and while this branch of study used to be called 'chaotic magic' or 'chaos theory', the alternative term 'the Dark Arts' also became popular in light of the colloquial name given to their practicioners._

_Later, as a result of the destructive actions and the perceived personality faults of many practicioners of chaotic magic, the inherent destructive potential of such techniques, and the spiritual and mental risks of untrained and incompetent sorcerers attempting grand feats of chaotic magic; the Dark Arts were equivocated with powerful offensive magic, especially when it was done on a large scale. Perhaps the most famous example of chaotic offensive magic is Fiendfyre, which some are beginning to regard as the quintessential Dark spell. Now, the term 'Dark wizard' is being used not just for practicioners of chaotic magic or sorcerers capable of large-scale acts of destruction, but also for sorcerers who are generally perceived to be of defective moral character, regardless of their level of skill or capability. Since chaos theory is such an obscure and difficult branch of magic, many do not realize the distinction between a spell like the Killing Curse, which is powerful offensive magic but not chaotic magic; and a spell like Fiendfyre. I believe this ignorance to be the primary cause of the confusion surrounding this subject, and I hope this short note along with the contents of the book lays it to rest in the mind of the reader._"

\- from the introduction of _Chaos Theory_, a book authored by Antioch Peverell sometime in the 13th century

* * *

"Try again."

Harry was beginning to get tired of the amount of concentration he was having to exert, but he could see that he was making significant progress. This was a much better way of improving precision and control compared to transfiguring a match to a needle wandlessly, which admittedly seemed rather childish to him now. Clearing his mind of such thoughts and concentrating on his task once again, Harry raised his wand and incanted "_Ignis maledictus._"

Contrary to the impression one may get from its name, Fiendfyre was not actually fire, since there was no combustion reaction in its mechanism. It was a spell which created a positive feedback loop within the Shroud which superheated gas to plasma using energy acquired through mass-energy equivalence. Left unchecked, it could vaporize almost anything and it expanded in an uncontrolled manner through the atmosphere. The key to a successful casting of Fiendfyre was surgical interference in the Shroud to keep the positive feedback loop contained without extinguishing it, and this required extremely precise timing, control and intuition. It was also what Harry was attempting to do at the moment - his task was to cast Fiendfyre and keep it contained in the shape of a ball with a fixed radius in front of him as long as he could.

White-hot plasma appeared in the center of the barren training room (which looked surprisingly similar to a ball fire due to the convection currents generated by the high temperature) and Harry immediately began to shape it in the form of a ball. Once he was done, he simply stood fixed in place, frowning in intense concentration with a white-hot ball of plasma in front of him and Ravenclaw observing him at his side. It was the most exhausting exercise he ever performed while not moving an inch. After about one minute, his control began to waver and the ball threatened to explode out of control, so he immediately broke the feedback loop and promptly collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. He had learned his lesson that not breaking the feedback loop was very bad when Ravenclaw had to step in and extinguish an out of control Fiendfyre with the _Aqua Eructo _spell the first time he tried this exercise two months ago. The resulting amount of steam in the room was enough to impede his sight completely.

Ravenclaw waited until Harry stopped panting on the ground and managed to catch his breath before commenting on the performance. "Lasting for a full minute is a remarkable achievement when you've only had around sixty hours of total practice so far. You should be ready to begin incorporating chaotic techniques into your normal spellcasting now."

Harry would've been excited at this prospect, but at the moment he lacked the energy to be excited about anything. Ravenclaw levitated his body onto a couch in the training room so he could rest, and Harry decided this was a good time to ask Ravenclaw about what she had discovered regarding the Chamber of Secrets.

They had learned about the opening of the Chamber from the Prophet, and Ravenclaw had explained to him that the Chamber of Secrets was a location in Hogwarts that Salazar Slytherin had left behind for the purpose of providing assistance and guidance to his heir, similar to Ravenclaw's own room, which she had charmed in a way which concealed its true purpose of construction. She remarked that the Chamber had been opened once before, some fifty years ago, and at the time she suspected a student named Tom Marvolo Riddle to be the heir of Slytherin based on the information available to her. Since she was also certain for reasons Harry did not understand that Lord Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin, she conjectured that Tom Marvolo Riddle was in fact the Dark Lord. Given that the Dark Lord was somehow able to get a piece of his soul into Hogwarts in Harry's time there, Harry was not surprised that the Dark Lord could've found a way to open the Chamber once again - perhaps using yet another horcrux - but he did not know the Dark Lord's motivation for doing so.

Harry decided to stop thinking about it for now. "Any news about the Chamber?"

"Yes. It seems that some students have been petrified - thinking back to Salazar's subtle hints, I suspect he left behind a basilisk in the Chamber, which was released by Lord Voldemort and is now roaming in the castle. They have been considering shutting down the school until the problem is sorted out, which seems to me like a sensible decision they should've taken long ago. Then again, maybe they are not aware that they are facing a basilisk."

Harry had no clue how a basilisk could roam in the castle undetected, but he had an idea how it was petrifying students. However, it would be highly improbable for everyone who encountered the basilisk to look into its eyes indirectly, so he believed the Dark Lord didn't want anyone to be killed in the incident. The situation did not make much sense to Harry, who decided that his exhaustion did not leave him in the appropriate state of mind to be trying to make sense of the fiasco. Instead, he drifted off to a much needed, peaceful sleep.


	6. Learning, Part 2

**Since there may be readers who did not realize it yet, I want to emphasize that there are no original characters in the story so far - only an out-of-character Harry Potter. Every character who has been mentioned so far (including in this chapter) exists in the Potterverse, although I significantly expand upon the history, personality, abilities, etc. of many of them. I will try to keep every character other than Harry Potter about which the canon provides sufficient knowledge as in-character as possible. As a guideline, you can assume that (almost) everything that is known to have happened in the Potterverse until July 31st, 1980 also happened in the alternative universe of this story. **

**In addition, Chekhov's gun applies to almost all of the information contained in the chapters - most of it is relevant to the main plot, especially the parts detailing some aspects of the history of the wizarding world. In other words, pay attention - the devil is in the details, after all. As a final note, once a passage from a text is shown in a chapter, it means Harry has read it and knows its contents from that point on, so you get to see the mysteries unfold from his perspective.**

**This chapter will also feature multiple time-skips.**

* * *

"What can you tell me about dementors?"

Ravenclaw looked up from the latest problem she'd been working on to see Harry put down the latest publication of the Daily Prophet on the table. "I do have some knowledge about them. What is the reason behind this curiosity?"

"There has been a breakout from Azkaban - a man named Sirius Black, apparently. Reading about it made me curious about the creatures guarding the island."

Ravenclaw paused for a moment before responding. "I don't know of the origins of dementors, but the effect they have on those near them is similar to an inferior, but wide-area variant of the Nightmare Curse. Their effects can be resisted through Occlumency. Due to their spiritual composition, soul magic which induces strong emotions other than fear on its target can be used to weaken or destroy them, and so can pure brute force - something like a vicious attack of Legilimency or Fiendfyre, for instance. For the average witch and wizard, destroying them is probably impossible, but they would be capable of driving them away with a Patronus charm."

Harry hummed. "I would've thought they would be more troublesome than that if they were assigned to be the guards of Azkaban."

"They _are_ troublesome under the right circumstances for most sorcerers, for example, the circumstance in which the sorcerer in question does not have a wand. However, what I've read has led me to believe that the Dementors are not in Azkaban as guards, but as a means to perpetually torture the prisoners on the island. Even a weaker variant of the Nightmare Curse can drive a person insane if they are exposed to it continuously for months."

"I believe they went a little too far in the wrong direction when trying to optimize the tradeoff between the power of the punishment as a deterrent and the difficulty of reintegration of the prisoners into society afterwards."

Ravenclaw seemed to agree with this assessment. "The punishments used by the British Ministry of Magic are quite strange - their ultimate punishment is the Dementor's Kiss, which has the same effect on a person as being held under the Nightmare Curse for too long. It leaves them in a vegetative state and irreparably damages their spirit. It would be much more humane, and no less effective, to simply execute any criminals whose transgressions are grave enough to warrant such a horrible fate."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about conventional morality to the extent that you're concerned about whether punishments are humane or not?"

Ravenclaw was amused by the question, but responded seriously. "It is not entirely a matter of conventional morality. Imagine that you were the one to be punished, and that you were given a choice between execution or being subjected to a curse which would rid you of your mental faculties irreversibly. Which one would you choose?"

"Execution, without question."

"Then you understand why I am not impressed by the Ministry's choice of punishment."

Harry shuddered. Thinking about the punishment in those terms indeed made it clear. To intrude upon a person's mind and deprive them of their ability to reason and understand the world around them - it was the ultimate violation that could be inflicted on a person. The mere thought of the vile act made Harry sick in his stomach. "My apologies. I did not realize the... implications of the punishment at first."

Ravenclaw heard the apology, but her mind drifted elsewhere. After her failed attempt at creating a finite-time singularity, she had been content to wait for a successor worthy of continuing her legacy. She had thought it would take a few decades, maybe a century at most, and then her work would continue. Instead, she was forced to watch as the civilization she once cherished rotted slowly from within, as her legacy was reduced to a mere mockery of what it had once been. She could do nothing as she witnessed her own House be filled with incompetents and fools who did not even understand what knowledge was, let alone push its boundaries to make new, meaningful discoveries. After a few centuries, she had lost hope in the future. She believed perhaps this was nature's way of punishing her for her lack of patience and her carelessness. It would've certainly been akin to poetic justice.

It was when she had almost no hope left that she saw Harry Potter. At first, she ignored the signs - she had already resigned herself to what she saw as the punishment for her rash actions millennia ago. She became intrigued as she observed him from a distance - the way magic came so easily to him, the expression of reverence on his face whenever he looked at his wand, the unrestrained enthusiasm he showed in learning about what was truly meaningful. Still, she did not dare to reach out to him. It was on that night, when she saw him looking out of the window of his room, that she allowed herself to feel hope again. What she had felt from him that night could not be faked, and she knew it. Looking back now, she realized how foolish she had been for waiting as long as she did. The boy had been in danger since the day he had set foot in the castle, and she had spent her time wallowing in sorrow instead of reaching out and assisting him. If something had happened to the boy... she did not want to even consider the consequences.

When the boy looked her in the eye that day and told her that _he would not let it happen_, she knew she had made the right choice. She had rarely seen such determination in a person, and never in one so young. Since then, some of the boy's simplest gestures, expressions and reactions sent her into this contemplative mood. She wondered if the boy knew the ring he now carried on the ring finger of his right hand, the one which she had turned into a soul container, had once been the lordship ring of the House of Ravenclaw - knowing him, he probably suspected it.

Ah, and how ironic it was that the heir of Salazar should seek out the one who was to be her successor and attempt to kill him when he was still a baby... She was amused despite the circumstances - if the heir of Salazar had any suspicion of what the boy would one day become and he was born to those who stood against him, killing the boy before he could become a threat to his power was exactly the course of action Salazar would've taken. She wondered what might've aroused Lord Voldemort's suspicions enough for him to attempt to kill the boy in person, but she could not think of anything.

Regardless, the time for waiting was almost over... if the boy continued to progress at the rate that he did, there was only a year left before he could safely leave the sanctuary of the library and begin uncovering the many mysteries that fell upon the wizarding world like a thick fog in her absence.

"Milady?"

Harry's voice startled Ravenclaw out of her contemplation. "Excuse my lapse in attention. I was... distracted." She paused for a moment to recall what they had been discussing before responding. "Apology accepted."

* * *

"_Minister Gambol's bid for office and subsequent election in 1827 was met with enthusiasm by the international wizarding community. Famously, Supreme Mugwump Cottismore Croyne was personally present in her inauguration ceremony, and delivered a speech promoting peace between the Muggle and wizarding worlds, international unity and cooperation in the wizarding world and equal rights for muggleborns. The Gambol administration's policies, which were backed by a supportive Wizengamot, managed to improve Britain's standing in the International Confederation of Wizards after over three decades of strained relations due to discrimination by prior British administrations against wizards and witches of 'impure blood' and against so-called 'blood traitors' (wizards and witches who fraternize too closely with Muggles). By the time Minister Gambol left office in 1835, Britain was once again seen as the leader of the international wizarding world, and her trade and diplomatic relations with the world at large had been restored to their state before the damage done by the Osbert administration. Her administration's many policy changes included the outlawing of discrimination against muggleborns in Ministry employment, increased punishments for hate speech against those of impure blood, and the abolition of the long-standing corporate tax exemptions granted to old pureblood families._"

\- from _The History of Wizarding Britain in the Modern Era_, a book authored by Cygnus Black II in 1912

* * *

Harry Potter and Rowena Ravenclaw stood facing one another in a barren but spacious stone room. The walls, the floor and the ceiling were all colored dark grey, and light coming from the windows on one of the walls illuminated the room. There was tension in the air as the two duellists bowed to each other.

Harry initiated the duel by firing a series of curses in quick succession, which Ravenclaw gracefully sidestepped and responded using a Blood-Boiling curse. Harry drew an upward arc with his wand, dislodging a piece of stone from the ground and blocking the curse; then transfigured the stone into many shards of glass and banished them at Ravenclaw. She responded by retransfiguring the shards into a viscous, silvery liquid - _mercury, _Harry realized - and sent it flying back at Harry. He hastily threw a Nightmare Curse in her direction to break her concentration before she could follow up, which she dodged as Harry unleashed a torrent of fire on the incoming liquid, which caused the mercury to react with the oxygen present in the air to form mercury oxide. The resulting orange-red dust fell to the ground between Harry and Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw followed up by making a wide sweeping arc with her wand, leading to two balls of boiling liquid appearing before her and she immediately banished them towards Harry. His eyes widened as he realized what she had done - _liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen _\- and he disapparated on the spot moments before the liquids crashed together on where he had been a moment ago and a tremendous explosion rocked the entire room. He appeared behind Ravenclaw and incanted "_Perfuro chaoticus._" The air around him began to swirl and rapidly picked up speed, and with a flick of his wand he sent the raging winds at the speed of sound towards Ravenclaw. She reacted by disapparating moments before the winds crashed onto stone, wrecking half of the room and sending pieces of stone flying in every direction, which Harry blocked with a shield reducing them to dust.

He turned around to find Ravenclaw pointing her wand at him with a malicious expression on her face. Moments later, dozens of different spells exploded from her wand in a torrent of color - _blood-boiling curse, bone-breaking curse, blasting curse, tripping jinx, knockback jinx... _\- none of them were a problem individually, but when combined in this fashion they were extremely dangerous. Harry shouted "_Aegis argentum!_" and a large silver dome appeared between him and the onslaught heading towards him. The spells crashed against the shield and the room shook with tremors once more as the shield collapsed under the pressure, but Ravenclaw was not there, she was behind him -

Harry turned around to see the characteristic red color of the Cruciatus curse heading towards him before his world exploded in excruciating pain and he collapsed to the ground. Ravenclaw held the curse for a few seconds before dispelling it. Once Harry managed to stand upright, Ravenclaw began speaking.

"Tell me what you did wrong."

Harry replayed the brief but intense duel in his mind, and came up with an answer. "I didn't anticipate that the backlash of my own attack with the Chaotic Storm spell would distract me long enough for you to have the time you needed to launch a powerful attack against me."

"Correct. Your use of the Chaotic Storm was exemplary in terms of spellwork, but in the circumstances it was not an appropriate choice. If the duel had been taking place in an open area, it might've been successful. You should've made use of more precise means of offense which had less potential to rebound on the caster. As you've seen, even a minor distraction such as having to dissolve some stray stones into dust can prove fatal in a fast-paced duel."

Harry nodded. "I know, but it's a different matter to implement it in practice."

"That's because you _don't _know. The knowledge we're able to express in natural language is a tiny fraction of the knowledge we possess - most knowledge can only be acquired through extensive practice and contemplation, and can't easily be shared with others. It is for the purpose of your acquisition of that knowledge that we are doing this, after all."

Harry knew the reason behind Ravenclaw's apparent pedantry, since had already asked Ravenclaw about her rather unusual fixation with the phrasing of certain things in the past, and she explained why she showed an unusual level of care with her use of language:

"_Language has more power than you give it credit for. It is more than a tool of communication, in fact, some Muggle linguists in the recent past have conjectured that language may not have evolved for the purpose of communication at all... It is a tool of structuring one's thoughts, and by simply granting legitimacy to a certain way of phrasing things, to uses of certain words in specific contexts, you change the way you think about the world. It is a subtle thing... many do not realize how much they are influenced by the manner in which language is used around them. It is for this reason that I caution against what I believe to be use of language which corrodes one's perspective of the world._

_Concretely, imagine that those around you referred to wands as 'sticks of wood'. If the reference was shared among the members of the community, this would lead to no difficulties in communication... but 'stick of wood' is a phrase that already comes with its own connotations, and by using the phrase to refer to wands, these connotations gradually become associated with wands themselves in the minds of those who listen to and make use of the phrase. Silently, the perspective of the entire community is shifted to view wands in a certain way without their consent or awareness. Do you not agree that to leave open the capacity to affect such change to others who would persuade others to turn away from your cause is dangerous? If you do, then you should understand the justification behind my concerns._"

While Harry was lost in thought about Ravenclaw's theories on the purpose and function of language, she once again took position opposite him and startled him out of his thoughts. "You need more practice. Prepare yourself, and we'll have another round." Harry agreed with her assessment, so he took a duelling stance once more and bowed. Within moments, the pair began to duel once more.

* * *

"_Grand Sorc. Cottismore Croyne (O.M. first class) is a highly accomplished sorcerer who is (at the time of the publication of this text) the incumbent Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, inaugurated in 1801. He was born in the year 1770 to a couple of British diplomats, Elenia Croyne and Blackmoore Croyne, in England. Due to the profession of his parents, he spent time in many different countries across the magical world, and received what he described as an 'eclectic education' in his travels. To this date, he is the only holder of the title of Supreme Mugwump who never received formal instruction in a school of magic. _

_He returned to England in 1787 and was recruited by the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. For the remarkable advances he made in multiple areas of magical theory, both within his capacity as an Unspeakable and otherwise, he was awarded the title of Grand Sorcerer in 1792, becoming the youngest sorcerer ever to be bestowed with the honor, and was internally appointed as the Head of the Department of Mysteries the same year. During his tenure as the Head of the department, he became known for his fervent opposition of the discriminatory policies of the Osbert administration (in power until 1798), which many viewed as being influenced too strongly by the pureblooded Malfoy family and their interests. He resigned from his position in 1801 in protest of the actions of Minister Lufkin, giving a statement that declared her attempts at interfering in the Department of Mysteries to be 'harmful not just to Britain, but to the wizarding world as a whole'. He was subsequently offered the position of Supreme Mugwump by a supermajority of delegates in the ICW, which he accepted. During his tenure, he was known for his staunch support of the Statute of Secrecy, his opposition to blood purity ideology, and his controversial stance that no form of magic should be made inherently illegal, including the Dark Arts (he expressed his distaste for this term on many occasions)._

_He received many honors during his tenure, among them the Order of Merlin, first class; which he was awarded by Minister Gambol in 1827 'for his outstanding contributions to magical theory and his many achievements in his capacity as Supreme Mugwump'._"

\- from a biography of Cottismore Croyne, written in 1843

* * *

It was on Harry's fourteenth birthday, July 31st 1994, that Ravenclaw asked to talk to him about what they had both known was coming. They were once again seated at a table in the library, Harry reading the biography of Cottismore Croyne and Ravenclaw working on yet another mathematics problem that she'd been stuck on for some time. She sighed, leaned backwards in her seat and looked at Harry intently.

"I believe the time has come for you to start your investigation in earnest. What plans have you made to uncover the mystery of the hostile ward scheme you encountered aboard the Express?"

Harry looked up from the book he'd been reading and blinked. What Ravenclaw meant was that she believed Harry now had the skill necessary to defend himself against any potential attackers who might try to assassinate him, or worse. He had the feeling that this day was close, but Ravenclaw never commented on it until now, and the thought of finally leaving this sanctuary and beginning to affect change in the world filled him with anticipation and excitement. He then processed her question, and responded.

"I have my suspicions about who might've been behind it, but at this point there isn't much evidence. I believe the best lead we have is still the warding of the train by the Department of Mysteries during the War. It wouldn't be possible to keep the warding of the Express entirely secret no matter how skilled the ward-weavers were, so it must've been done undercover in some manner. If the mental manipulation wards were present when the Department of Mysteries became involved to weave their own, they would've discovered them - the wards were hidden very well, but it would be impossible for any ward to stand up to that kind of scrutiny. In that scenario, the continued presence of the wards implies that the Unspeakables simply took no action to remove them from the train, which would mean complicity by the Department in the conspiracy, at least in some capacity. If the wards were not present at the time, then they were either placed by the Unspeakables under the cover of warding the Express against attack, or they were placed afterwards by an unknown party. In the latter case, I don't have any leads on who might've been involved, nor do I have any ideas on how it might've been accomplished; so I plan to focus on confirming or ruling out the first two possibilities first, both of which implicate the Department of Mysteries."

Ravenclaw approved of this line of reasoning, so she gestured for him to carry on. "How do you plan to investigate the Department's possible involvement?"

Harry smirked. "I believe Mr. Minchum would very much appreciate the chance to talk with the Boy-Who-Lived in a private setting..."

Ravenclaw was uncertain about the robustness of this plan, so she asked the obvious question. "The Department of Mysteries functions rather independently. It is possible that the Minister himself did not have knowledge of the conspiracy. Do you have a backup plan if that proves to be the case?"

Harry's smirk vanished and he became thoughtful for a moment. He nodded. "The Minister personally requested the warding of the Express, so I think it's reasonable to assume he must have been involved in some manner. I do have an alternative plan if this approach fails, but it is a rather... extreme option that I would rather not employ."

If there was a way to pique Ravenclaw's interest, Harry had found it. "Oh? What might that plan be?"

Harry looked at Ravenclaw intently, and Ravenclaw felt from the look in his eyes that Harry's plan was going to have a quality of madness to it. When she heard what he said, her eyes first betrayed confusion, then her confused expression morphed into one of dawning realization and a twinge of horror.

"Have you ever heard of Augustus Rookwood?"


	7. The Plot Thickens

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, contemplating the events of the past three years, wondering where he had made a mistake, if he had made one at all.

When he placed Harry Potter with his mother's relatives following Lord Voldemort's fall, he had his concerns about the prejudice of the household against magic. He knew he was taking a risk by doing so, but he felt it was a necessary one to keep the boy safe from those who would exact revenge for their fallen Lord - the terrible fate of Frank and Alice Longbottom still weighed heavily on his mind even today. He had anticipated that the boy may be abused, and so had asked Arabella Figg to keep an eye on the Dursley household in case such a thing came to pass. He was pleasantly surprised when Figg told him that his relatives appeared to be treating Harry well and there was no sign of any abuse whatsoever. She had also told him of what she'd observed of the boy's reclusive tendencies, which he had kept in the back of his mind, but he hadn't been concerned about it at the time.

He was surprised by the boy when he came to Hogwarts - he didn't know what he'd expected the boy to be like, but it certainly was not what he actually found to be the truth. The boy was extremely reclusive, only talking with fellow students when he absolutely had to, and spent more time in the company of his teachers. His talent and intuition for magic surpassed even that of Tom Riddle at the same age, but that was where the similarities between them ended. Tom Riddle had a thirst to prove himself, to be superior to others, to be respected and feared - he had seen it since his first days as a student in the castle. In contrast, Harry Potter was perfectly content to study magic on his own and largely ignored the people around him. If Tom Riddle had been the embodiment of the most extreme traits sought by Slytherin House, Harry Potter was the same for Ravenclaw House. He would've spent more time dwelling on the boy if he had any time to spare - between his duties as Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster; along with the arrival of Quirinus Quirrell and his connection to Lord Voldemort, he simply had none.

Then the unthinkable happened - the boy... _disappeared_. He still had no idea how it happened - he knew the boy did not leave the castle grounds, since the Hogwarts wards would've alerted him if he had. He left his belongings in his room, which meant he had either left in a hurry or had been taken against his will. He suspected Voldemort's involvement, but he could not come up with a way in which Voldemort could've circumvented the castle wards. He had even contemplated the possibility of Voldemort having made use of the Chamber of Secrets later on, when he had discovered that Quirrell was being possessed by Voldemort, but he had been keeping a close eye on Quirrell on all times and he knew the man couldn't have had an opportunity to take the boy to the Chamber without his knowledge. It was as if the boy simply vanished into thin air, and he had no idea what'd happened.

In the end, the boy's disappearance could not be kept secret, and the uproar when it became public knowledge had significantly harmed his reputation. There was much speculation about what happened, but none of it made any sense, as was often the case. Fudge organized a search effort, but after some months of no progress it was eventually halted. There were still reports of sightings every now and then, but that was to be expected given the boy's popularity in the wizarding world. Regardless of whether the boy was alive or dead, he was under extremely potent secrecy wards - it was the only explanation for why no method he attempted gave any indication of the boy's location. There was no way the boy could've been sighted as he was rumored to be under those circumstances. On top of that, Lord Voldemort managed to flee after being confronted by him in front of the Mirror, leaving the possessed Quirrell for dead. His failure to acquire the Stone would delay, but not prevent, his eventual return. If Trelawney's prophecy was to be believed, about which he'd always had doubts due to the imprecise nature of the subject of Divination, it was imperative that the boy be found so that Voldemort could be defeated permanently. In the end, if the boy could not be found, he would have to confront Voldemort himself, as he had confronted Grindelwald in the past. It was an eventuality he was prepared for.

Then there was the proof he'd always been looking for that Voldemort had created horcruxes, which fell into his hands the next year entirely by accident and, thankfully, at no cost of lives. He wondered if Lucius Malfoy had been told by Voldemort, or otherwise deduced, the nature of the artifact he had succeeded in sneaking into the castle through Ginevra Weasley; but given the obscurity of the subject and Voldemort's own fear of death, he suspected the extent of Malfoy's knowledge had been that the artifact would cause some trouble within the school. He had risked the lives of so many students merely to get some payback against Arthur Weasley. Dumbledore had truly had difficulty containing himself when the insane man tried to cast the Killing Curse on Neville Longbottom in front of his office - it was in moments like that when he wondered how it was possible for the Malfoy family to retain so much influence, when the Malfoy patriarch was prone to such bouts of madness on occasion. Nevertheless, some good came out of the entire incident - one of Voldemort's horcruxes was found and destroyed. The problem was he did not know how many Voldemort had made in total - the diary may well have been the only one, but from what Dumbledore knew of Voldemort's character, he wouldn't have been satisfied with only one safeguard against death. The creation of multiple horcruxes was extremely dangerous and for that reason never attempted before, but Voldemort's ingenuity and his extreme fear of death would be the perfect combination to drive him to do what no sorcerer before him had done. In that case, the other horcruxes must also be found and destroyed, a task he had already started working on but was far from finishing.

The next year was comparatively uneventful - Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, broke into Hogwarts and attempted to get into the Gryffindor common room. Dumbledore did not know what drove Black to do this - it was possible he simply went insane after 12 years in Azkaban, sought to assassinate Harry Potter, and had not heard the news of his disappearance; but this theory was too far-fetched for him to believe. It was likely he would never know the truth of the matter, since Black had been found by the dementors stationed on the castle grounds and Kissed, after which the dementors were withdrawn by the Ministry. That had been some months ago, and now he was occupied with the organization of the Triwizard Tournament, which the Norwegian and the French Ministries for Magic had insisted would be a boon to international cooperation and the emergence of lasting connections between the alumni of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. He planned to make the announcement to the students at the start of the term, and he would be taking some precautions to ensure that younger students did not rush to certain death in the pursuit of vain glory. He hoped he could get the other schools to agree with his wish on this matter when he let them know of his intentions.

Dumbledore let out a breath and rubbed his face with his hands. Sometimes he wished he could return to the simpler days in which he was a teacher and a scholar without so many responsibilities to juggle, but if nothing else, the ever-present threat of Lord Voldemort ensured his dream would not become reality, at least not for the time being. He would have to endure for longer, as he had done for so many years now.

It was then that the detection wards he placed in front of the entrance of his room alerted him that Minerva was here to talk to him about something. He concealed his weary expression behind a genial mask he used often nowadays. He did not want to make others worry needlessly about him. As Minerva appeared from the entrance and began to approach his desk, he welcomed her with his trademark comment. "Ah, Minerva, how nice it is to see you on this fine day. Would you care for some lemon drops?"

* * *

August 1st, 1994 was just another Monday for Harold Minchum. He had retired from active duty when he had stepped down as Minister in 1980, at the height of the War. His five years as Minister had felt much longer than that with the constant threat of You-Know-Who hanging over his head like a guillotine, and none of his efforts had worked to contain his reign of terror. He was tired by the end of his term, and had wished the best of luck to Millicent Bagnold, who was taking over the enormous burden of being a wartime Minister. He certainly hadn't expected You-Know-Who to be defeated by a one year old infant - the man who had given him and the British wizarding community so much trouble was gone, just like that. It was difficult to believe. Now, he could live out the rest of his days in some peace and quiet.

He walked over to the kitchen counter to prepare his morning coffee - he had acquired the habit during his tenure as Minister, and had never been able to shake it off after that. It was a lovely summer morning and the light of the rising sun coming through the windows gave his kitchen a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It put him in a good mood and a smile appeared on his face without his conscious knowledge - he could never stand the cloudy weather which was so common in London. It would always make him feel somewhat depressed.

Then, something unexpected happened - he felt someone knocking on the wards on his house. He was not expecting any visitors today. In a somewhat apprehensive but also curious mood, he walked through the door opening to the attic, and looked at the appearance of his mysterious visitor through the specially charmed door. It was a young man, most likely in his mid-teens. He was dressed in rich black robes, and he could see the unusual emerald color of his eyes. He had messy hair and he could make out two expensive-looking rings in both of his ring fingers - the one on his right hand adorned by a blue sapphire, and the one on his left by a green emerald - the same color as his eyes. He appeared to be quite wealthy based on his attire, and his posture was confident and firm. The intent-based wards around his house sensed no threat from the young man, and the man's appearance had made Minchum very curious. He did not look like any of the pureblood patriarchs or scions that he knew. He decided there was no harm in asking the man what business he had with him. He opened the door, and before he could say anything, the young man smiled pleasantly and started talking.

"Mr. Minchum, I was hoping to have a moment of your time if it would not be a problem..?"

Minchum did not know why a stranger would knock on his door at 9 AM in the morning to "have a moment of his time", and he made no secret of his confusion. "That depends on what you have to say for yourself, young man. Do I know you?"

The man seemed amused by his inability to recognize him, as if he was recognized by everyone he'd ever met, and the very idea of not being recognized on sight by someone was alien to him. "I believe you do, Mr. Minchum." The young man held out his right hand for a handshake. "Harry Potter. I'm glad to finally have the pleasure of meeting you, sir."

Minchum's brain froze at that moment. Harry Potter? He had read enough stories on the Daily Prophet about his disappearance from Hogwarts that the fact was figuratively carved into his mind by now. Almost on instinct, he looked up to see if the man claiming to be Harry Potter had the characteristic lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and he did not find it. Besides, what business would Harry Potter have showing up on his doorstep almost three years after his disappearance? Was the man telling the truth, or was this some kind of elaborate setup that he had become a part of without realizing it?

The young man apparently noticed his befuddlement and his instinctive glance at his forehead, so he explained further. "If you're looking for the scar on my forehead, you should know that magic is capable of wonderful things, and healing cursed scars is one of them. I was fortunate enough to meet an expert who did me the great favor of... removing it."

Minchum was still skeptical of the man's claim to be Harry Potter, but he decided to let that be for the moment and focus on the question of why the man was here. "You said you wanted a moment of my time?" The question came out in more of a hostile tone than he had intended, but a man claiming to be Harry Potter standing at his doorstep at 9 AM in the morning did not do wonders for his composure. Fortunately, the man did not seem to mind.

"Yes. I must admit that I've always been curious about the War. I was hoping to impose upon your hospitality for some time in order to sate my curiosity about the subject - there is only so much one can learn by reading books and talking to people who were away from the center of the conflict, after all."

Minchum was surprised that this young man, who he was going to think of as Harry Potter unless proven otherwise, would go to the trouble of visiting his house simply to hear first-hand accounts of the War, but he did not let his surprise show. He knew almost nothing about Potter, after all, and he may simply be that much of a history enthusiast. He had no desire to make Potter feel insulted by showing his surprise on his face. As he was following this line of thought, he noticed that Potter's lips were curling upward and his eyes appeared to shine with amusement as he spent more time thinking about how to respond to this unusual request.

"I see, I see. Young men who are interested in their history are so rare nowadays. Very well, come on inside, it's not like I have anything better to do anyway." With that invitation, he left the door open and retraced his steps to the kitchen to get his coffee, which was now ready for consumption. Potter followed him with light and graceful steps, closed the door behind him, and stood silently in the kitchen as he poured his coffee into a mug and picked it up. "Coffee, one of my guilty pleasures. It helped back in those days, when I could hardly get any sleep and had to avoid falling asleep on my desk in the middle of the day. I haven't been able to quit ever since."

Potter nodded and gestured towards one of the chairs next to the rather small kitchen table. "May I?"

"Of course, of course. Make yourself comfortable."

Potter made his way to the chair and seated himself gracefully. In fact, all of his movements appeared practiced, as if all of them were carefully calculated to be as economical as possible. It unnerved Minchum, but he did not let it show. He sat down on the chair opposite to Potter's.

"It must've been difficult for you to lead a country in wartime in such a sleep-deprived condition. It would've been difficult for anyone, I imagine."

Minchum briefly closed his eyes as he recalled some of the memories he had not thought about for so long. "That it was. They call it the War today, but in war you know who your enemy is. That was no war. Nobody knew who You-Know-Who's followers were, nobody knew who to hold responsible for all of the attacks on muggleborns, on innocent families whose only crime was to be too friendly with muggles. Sometimes, all we could do was bring in some Obliviators to ensure the Statute was not breached. Karkaroff gave up the names of so many within the Ministry... it's no wonder we had as little success as we did, with so many traitors in our midst."

Potter nodded in understanding. "I can only imagine, having never lived through such times myself." He paused for a brief moment. "I've always been curious about what measures you took to ensure the safety of civilians during those times. How do you defend them from an unknown, unseen enemy who may strike at any target, at any time?"

"That was the central problem we faced during the unrest. One of the simplest ideas we came up with, but also one of the most effective, was to advise people to always travel out in the open in large groups, and if possible, with the company of someone skilled in combat. Not all had the luxury of doing so, but I think it was one of our more effective policies. Given the nature of the threat and the spies within our own ranks, there was little we could do. Most of the attacks on You-Know-Who's forces were carried out by the Order, not by the Ministry."

Potter appeared to be confused for a brief moment, but the expression vanished from his face as quickly as it came, replaced once again by a grave look showing understanding. "I understand. There was a question that plagued my mind for quite some time, now."

"Oh? Feel free to ask, I'll be happy to answer any questions you have for me."

Potter frowned in thought. "I was curious, given what you told me, why the operations of the Hogwarts Express were never suspended in favor of a safer mode of transportation such as floo travel or the use of portkeys. I know about the reasons behind its acquisition by Minister Gambol, but in wartime I would've thought that it would be too much risk to put the future generation in an environment which was so exposed and under risk of an attack, either internal or external." As he finished his sentence, he locked eyes with him and his gaze turned intense for some reason Minchum did not understand. He felt like he was being dissected and carefully examined by Potter's eyes, and it was unsettling. He pushed the foreign emotion down and answered Potter's question.

"Ah, yes. Many families were concerned about that during those times, and I think they were right to be concerned, for the reasons you mentioned. But I asked some warding experts working in the Ministry about it, and they said they could ward the train so that an attack by You-Know-Who would not be a problem. To abandon the train would be showing weakness to You-Know-Who, you see, and I didn't want to do that. It would've been a big blow to the morale of the resistance."

As he finished explaining, he noticed Potter's eyes, which were still firmly locked onto his, widen in what seemed like shock and horror. The reaction was completely out of place, and he had no idea what brought it on. They stared at each other for several moments before Potter managed to shake off whatever had overcome him, and his expression become one of understanding once again. "I see." Potter paused for another moment, as if he was unsure what to say, and then he looked at the ring on his right middle finger and then back at him with a disappointed expression. "I apologize, but I will have to excuse myself now. The ring on my right ring finger has a Protean Charm placed on it, and a close acquaintance must be in need of my presence, since he's using it to contact me. It's a shame, I would've liked to continue our conversation longer. I do think there's a lot I can learn from you, sir." Potter stood up from his seat and extended his right hand once more. "It was a pleasure talking to you, sir. I hope I will have the chance to enjoy your company again in the future."

Minchum was surprised by Potter's abrupt need to leave, but based on his countenance the matter requiring his presence was urgent, so he did not comment. He settled for standing up from his seat and extending his own right hand for a handshake. "Likewise, Mr. Potter. I hope we meet again soon."

Once they shook hands, Potter walked through the door to the attic in a hurry, but somehow managing to not lose any of his economy of movement. He opened the front door of the house and walked out without saying another word and closed the door shut. By the time Minchum managed to follow his guest to the attic, Potter was nowhere to be seen.

Dazed by the bizarre experience, Minchum stood in the attic, fixed in place. After some time, he shook his head and made his way to the sitting room to read today's Daily Prophet, which had arrived by owl minutes before Potter.

* * *

Harry appeared in the library with a look of grim determination on his face, walked towards one of the chairs and sat down. He threw his head back in the chair and closed his eyes, thinking furiously about what he had uncovered.

"Were the results of the meeting not to your satisfaction?"

He opened his eyes to see Ravenclaw looking at him with a serious expression. He shook his head. "The meeting went as well as could be expected, given the circumstances... but what I have uncovered is more worrying than anything we had conjectured."

Ravenclaw raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to explain, so he did. "I think the Minister was Confunded to make a request from the Department of Mysteries."

Ravenclaw narrowed her eyes. "What led you to this conclusion?"

"Legilimency. His memories of coming up with the reasoning behind his request are... disjointed, as if they were artificially implanted within his mind. He still believes himself to be the one who came up with the reasoning behind the request he made after almost two decades, and I doubt I would've noticed the abnormality had I not been specifically looking for it. Both of those indicate that the charm was performed by a practicioner highly proficient in the mind arts... exactly the skillset one would need to place a complex mental manipulation ward on the Hogwarts Express which was concealed so well that only its targets unusually in tune with the Shroud could detect its presence."

Ravenclaw turned her head and her gaze became unfocused. "How deep does this conspiracy go, I wonder..."

"I have no idea. The situation is even more serious than I had anticipated, and we're no closer to uncovering the true perpetrators, whomever they might be. It is clear that I can't get any more useful information from Minchum. I might be forced to put the alternative plan I had in mind into action, especially since the threat appears to be even bigger than I had initially estimated."

Ravenclaw looked back at Harry and stared intently. "Remember my advice. Your plan is dangerous, and it could go wrong with a single misstep. Under normal circumstances I would've cautioned against such madness, but the circumstances we've found ourselves in are hardly normal."

Harry opened the algebraic number theory book in front of him to the section on local fields, and looked up at Ravenclaw. "You have no cause to worry, milady. I assure you that I will exercise utmost caution in the execution of this plan." With that declaration, he began reading the book from where he had left off, with an amused Ravenclaw staring down at him.


	8. The Dark Lord

"_The first recorded use of the titles of 'Dark Lord' and 'Dark Lady' dates back to the esteemed sorceress Morgan le Fay, who carried the title of Lady due to her status as Queen of Avalon. Her skill and accomplishments in all areas of magic, especially chaos theory, motivated fellow practicioners of chaotic magic to informally refer to her as 'the Dark Lady' as a show of respect for her many achievements and prodigious talent. The title became popular in the broad wizarding community after the legendary duel between Morgan le Fay and Merlin, in which Morgan le Fay overpowered and defeated Merlin with extraordinary feats of chaotic magic that are rumored to have left observers speechless. As the decades went by, use of the informal title turned into a tradition, especially among practicioners of chaotic magic, and an inheritance mechanism developed around it with the endorsement of Morgan le Fay._

_In simple terms, any chaotic sorcerer or sorceress could lay claim to the title, provided that they are willing to defend it in a duel against any potential challengers wishing to usurp it. Tradition dictated that the title could be held by only one sorcerer or sorceress at a time, therefore any two claimants aware of each other's claim to the title were expected to duel at the earliest convenience, and the loser of the duel would relinquish their claim. The title carried great symbolic meaning and was one of the highest honors that a chaotic sorcerer or sorceress could achieve, and many sorcerers sought to claim it over the centuries, resulting in many of the most spectacular duels in wizarding history. Morgan le Fay stated on numerous occasions that she endorsed the creation of the title as a means of providing further incentive for chaotic sorcerers to push the boundaries of their craft further, especially in the area of combat applications._

_Until the time of the writing of this text, there have been six uncontested holders of the title - Morgan le Fay (created the title), Salazar Slytherin (defeated Morgan le Fay), Antioch Peverell (defeated Salazar Slytherin), Sentenza (claimed the title after the death of Antioch Peverell), Emeric (defeated Sentenza), Egbert (defeated Emeric). Some have criticized the continued use of the title after Antioch Peverell's demise, stating that subsequent claimants were unworthy of it given their inferior abilities, but in spite of these complaints the title is used by a large section of the wizarding community (though not all may be aware of its true origins)._"

\- from _Secrets of the Darkest Art_, authored by Owle Bullock in the late 14th century

* * *

Peter Pettigrew sometimes wondered where his life had gone wrong. He felt like the world was conspiring to make him as miserable as possible. He had been threatened by the Dark Lord into betraying his former friends, then forced to spend more than twelve years hiding as a rat animagus, worse, as the pet rat of the obnoxious Ron Weasley. He geniunely believed his existence as a rat for twelve years had been more unbearable than Black's imprisonment in Azkaban. Then, Black had somehow found out about where he was hiding and had come after him. He fled in fear of his life, like any reasonable person would've done, and felt he had no choice but to seek out the Dark Lord for protection and to be able to live as a human instead of a rat. He had never wished for any of this, but apparently the world did not hold his wishes in very high regard, since now he was purchasing some necessary supplies in the village of Little Hangleton, while the Dark Lord awaited his return in Riddle Manor, which was located some distance away in the opposite side of the valley the village was situated in. It was noon, but there wasn't much sunlight due to the overcast weather, which served to create a gloomy and downcast atmosphere around the small village and the once-dazzling, but now decreipt and ill-maintained manor on the far side of the valley.

He had just finished his business in the village and was about to head back to the Manor when he noticed a strange-looking figure heading towards him. The man (he assumed, it was hard to tell the mysterious onlooker's gender) was dressed entirely in expensive-looking dark robes, and a hood fell over his head hiding most of his face from view. Despite this, he appeared to have no difficulty seeing where he was going, and he got the distinct impression that the man was staring right at him even though he could not see his eyes beneath the hood. The man proceeded in quick steps, uncaring of the glances he was attracting from the Muggles nearby due to his peculiar choice of attire. As the man approached, Pettigrew could make out two rings on the man's ring fingers, and then the man came to a stop in front of him. Pettigrew shivered uncontrollably, and he noticed the man's lips curl in distaste at the display before the man broke the silence.

"You serve the Dark Lord, do you not?" Pettigrew froze at this pronouncement, but before he could show any further reaction the man continued. "I wish to... negotiate with the Dark Lord. There is a matter regarding which I believe he may be of assistance, and I trust I have an offer that will be of interest to him. I do not intend to appear on his doorstep uninvited, so I require you to inform him of my presence. Inform him and return to this place when you've done so."

Pettigrew's mind began working furiously. The man knew that he was a follower of the Dark Lord, and judging by what he said and his presence in this village, he was also aware of his current location. The way he spoke did not indicate an attitude of subservience, so Pettigrew doubted the man used to be a Death Eater, or had served the Dark Lord in some other capacity. His countenance was menacing, and Pettigrew did not feel it would be a good idea to upset the man by refusing his request, and yet he had no doubt that if he went to the Dark Lord with the mysterious man's request, he would be blamed for some imagined mistake that he did not commit. He was certain he had nothing to do with how the man came to know of the Dark Lord's whereabouts. He was still thinking about how to proceed when the man spoke once again, this time with a menacing tone.

"You should know that it brings me no joy to be standing in front of you in this village forsaken by civilization, waiting for a response. I do not wish to slight the Dark Lord by relying on anything such, but there are other means to make you cooperate if you will not do so willingly."

Pettigrew's evaluation of the danger posed by the mysterious man went up dramatically. The casual ease with which the man threatened him indicated that the man did not consider him to be a threat in any way. He decided to stall for some time. "Ah, sorry, I was surprised by your sudden appearance. Yes, I am a follower of the Dark Lord." He paused, as if in thought, even though he already knew what he was going to say. "Is there anything more that you wish me to tell him? If the Dark Lord knows you, a name would help to convince him."

The man's lips curled upward in amusement, and Pettigrew did not know what he'd said which warranted such a reaction. "You could say that we're... acquainted, but there is no need for you to know of my identity. It is for the Dark Lord's ears only. As for your other question, you may tell the Dark Lord that I have some experience with the creation of soul containers. He will understand the reference."

Pettigrew could only hope that the man's presence would not cause too much trouble for the Dark Lord, since if it did he had no doubt the Dark Lord would blame his boundless incompetence for the unexpected turn of events. "I understand. Well, I was heading to the Dark Lord anyway, so I'll inform him when I arrive at his side."

"Good. I will be awaiting your return at this spot. Do remember that I will be... _most displeased _if I have to wait for longer than strictly necessary." With that, the man turned away from him and started to look around the village, which Pettigrew correctly interpreted as a gesture of dismissal. He began rapidly making his way to Riddle Manor, hoping the Dark Lord would not see it appropriate to punish him once this was over.

* * *

Harry watched the short and rat-faced man from the corner of his eye as the man stumbled in his haste to get away from him. He did not understand why the Dark Lord would choose to rely on such a cowardly and talentless individual in accomplishing any task with any amount of significance. The man was afraid of his own shadow, and he had absolutely no capacity to shield his thoughts from others. His soul was crude and rigid for a wizard, which meant his potential as a sorcerer was quite limited. Perhaps the man had some redeeming talents in other areas, though from his brief encounter with the man Harry was quite doubtful of that hypothesis.

He once again thought over the circumstances which had led him here. He required detailed information about the activities of the Department of Mysteries during the War, and he could not try to extract it from an Unspeakable directly because their identities were kept secret, and he did not dare to enter the Ministry building in a suicidal mission to attempt to discover more about the conspirators where they had been able to Confund a Minister in secret. Based on Minchum's lack of information about the conspiracy, he did not think he would find any information about it outside of the Department. His only hope to acquire the information he sought was to get it from an Unspeakable, and there was only one person whose status as an Unspeakable was public knowledge - Augustus Rookwood. His position in the Department of Mysteries had been revealed during the 1981 trials before he'd been sentenced to life in Azkaban. If he could get to one Unspeakable, he would be able to acquire the identities of many more from them, so even if the one he found had no knowledge of the conspiracy, he would be able to gain further leads to investigate. Minchum's manipulation had convinced him that _someone _in the Department was involved in the conspiracy.

Of course, it was not exactly easy to simply pay a visit to Rookwood in his maximum security Azkaban cell. However, there was another person who could have knowledge of the identities of other Unspeakables - the Dark Lord. Rookwood could've relayed the identities of some Unspeakables to him, although he thought the Dark Lord would've been more interested in the nature of the research being conducted by the Department and not by their list of employees. Even if the Dark Lord did not have the knowledge Harry was looking for, he had the capactity to gather an army of followers quickly and a vested interest in organizing a mass breakout from Azkaban, which would give Harry the opportunity to question Rookwood about the conspiracy. In either scenario, Harry needed something to offer the Dark Lord in exchange for what he was going to request from him, and circumstances allowed him to make a highly tempting offer, along with a form of insurance in case the Dark Lord attempted to go back on his word afterwards.

He planned to publicly return to the wizarding world soon, and he had put off the investigation of his family vault at Gringotts until then. He hoped he would be able to find _something _about the Department of Mysteries inside - he was looking specifically for any books, diaries, journals or heirlooms left in the vault by Ralston Potter. He hoped to find some item which could give him further insight into the inner workings of the Department or its connection to the Statute of Secrecy which had apparently been forgotten by the British wizarding community.

Harry closed his eyes in thought. There was a crucial piece of the puzzle that he was missing - the motive of the conspirators. Why would they take such extreme measures to maintain a mental manipulation ward on the Express? What was their objective? An entire generation of students took the Express since the intervention of the Unspeakables. How come nobody noticed any signs of unusual behavior? The violent reaction of the wards to Harry's own presence only told him that the extent of the manipulation the wards attempted to perform was unusually large, so there was some spiritual or mental quality he had that the wards were trying to eliminate. Unfortunately, that was as far as he got whenever he tried to divine the intentions of the conspirators. The wards had been designed very carefully, and Harry wasn't sure if he could understand their purpose even if he had the freedom to study them in detail. A mind-mage of such talent would not leave such a ward in a public location without obfuscating it significantly so that its true purpose could not be deduced. It was because of this that Harry saw no need to return to the Express - he was certain he would not learn anything new even if he did investigate the wards in detail.

He could simply reveal the existence of the wards, but if he did so he did not think it would expose the conspirators in any way. The blame would fall immediately on the Dark Lord and his followers, and the Ministry would most likely manufacture evidence along those lines and close the case, especially if the conspirators were still in position to manipulate the administration. From what Harry understood about the Dark Lord and the circumstances of the War, he doubted this conspiracy had anything to do with him. There was no discernible change in the behaviors or attitudes of students which would benefit the Dark Lord in any way, and there was much more that the Dark Lord could've done if he ever had the chance to place such wards on the Express unnoticed. There was little one could not achieve through their use, much like the Imperius curse. Harry could not think of any circumstance in which the Dark Lord would place them on the Express and not make use of such a huge advantage in any way.

Lost in his musings, he barely noticed the rat-faced man approaching him. He shook his head to clear his mind. He needed every bit of mental clarity he could find if he was to negotiate with the Dark Lord. He turned to face him when the man spoke.

"The Dark Lord will see you now. Follow me, and I will lead you to him."

* * *

"Wormtail, leave us. I wish to talk to our... visitor... alone."

Voldemort noticed the pathetic coward flinch at the sound of his voice, which was unnaturally high-pitched due to the current rudimentary body he was residing in. If he had drawn the correct conclusion from what Wormtail had told him, however, that circumstance may last shorter than he'd anticipated. To think that events should play out in such an unexpected way... He watched as Wormtail left the room and closed the door, then turned to address his unexpected visitor, whose magic he recognized from his days possessing Quirrell.

"Harry Potter... I must admit I was not expecting a visit from you today."

Potter removed his hood, which had apparently served its purpose of hiding his identity from Pettigrew, and spoke. "I had intended to avoid this course of action if I could, but recently circumstances have forced my hand, my Lord."

Voldemort was startled by Potter's way of addressing him. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Your Lord? Did you come here seeking to enter my service?"

Potter's face betrayed his confusion at first, but then his expression became one of realization. He shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort. You are the rightful holder of Le Fay's legacy, are you not? I merely address you with the title reserved for one in that position."

Voldemort was not expecting this response. The tradition Potter referred to was known by only a few, and recorded only sparsely. Then again, he could also sense the signs of having practiced chaotic magic extensively in Potter - his magic was too controlled, even when standing in place and doing nothing. If he somehow found instruction in that area, it was not such a surprise that he would also know of the traditions of the community. He was interested in where Potter had been for the last three years, but right now there were two matters of overwhelming importance that required his attention first - how Potter had managed to find his location and what Voldemort deduced he was offering him. He decided to inquire about these in order. "How did you know where to find me?"

Potter simply raised his left hand and tapped the emerald green jewel on his ring with his right index finger. "I used this, my Lord."

His eyes widened as he focused his attention on the jewel. He could sense what that item was even from here - but how was it possible? He had never made such an item into a horcrux... had Potter somehow come by one of his horcruxes and relocated the soul piece within to another item for whatever reason? Why would he do such a thing? "How is it possible that you have that item in your possession?"

Potter's own curiosity shone through his eyes, as if even he didn't know the answer to the question. "I believe, my Lord, that you can shed as much light on that as I can." Potter paused for a moment, thinking about how to continue. "On the night of All Hallows Eve in 1981, when you were at Godric's Hollow, a small part of your soul split off and latched itself on my own. I relocated the soul shard to the ring, and used the connection to trace your location. I believe that you intended to create a horcrux in the process of killing me, but the process was somehow disrupted."

Voldemort's eyes widened in astonishment. He _had _indeed attempted to create a horcrux that day, and he had an idea of what went wrong with the process, but he had not realized that he had actually succeeded in a way he did not expect. The split soul shard must've been very small, since he did not notice any change and did not sense the connection that linked him to it. He was surprised that Potter was able to sense it and use it to determine his location, but he had already suspected Potter to be unusually sensitive to magic, and unlike him Potter must've known to look for the connection. Now that he focused on the ring, he could indeed make out a faint thread linking his own soul to the shard located inside the emerald stone.

With that mystery settled, after some moments of silence, Voldemort moved on to the next matter of importance. "You have come to me with a... most unusual offer, Potter. What is it that you wish to demand in exchange?"

"Augustus Rookwood."

Voldemort blinked. Whatever he had expected the request to be, it was _not _that. What could Potter possibly want with Rookwood? He did not think it to be beyond Potter to make this request simply to know more about the research done by the Unspeakables, but he did not think Potter would resort to making him this offer if his motive was so tenuous. What Potter was offering was definitely worth more to him than Rookwood was, so he was already planning to agree, but that did not mean he was going to let the chance to obtain more information from Potter pass. "What is the reason behind this request?"

Potter let out a breath and closed his eyes for a few moments. "I have reason to suspect that there is a conspiracy, somehow involving the Department of Mysteries, aiming to manipulate the minds of Hogwarts students."

Voldemort did not know how to respond to this ridiculous claim, so he looked at Potter with incredulity evident on his face despite his limited capacity for facial expressions in his rudimentary body. However, Potter's expression was grim and he was clearly completely serious. "What has led you to this... outlandish... hypothesis?"

"I encountered powerful and well-hidden mental manipulation wards on the Hogwarts Express. If I've made the correct assumption about your connection to Quirrell, then you already know I have spent much time researching the history of the Express - it was because of this reason. There are many small things which do not make sense about the Express, but what convinced me of Unspeakable involvement was my discovery that Minchum had been Confunded to ask the Department of Mysteries to ward the Express during the War. I believe you can infer the rest, my Lord."

To say that Voldemort was shocked would be an understatement. There was no reason for Potter to fabricate such an elaborate story as cover for some other purpose he wanted Rookwood for - no, he thought Potter was telling the truth. His mind was reeling with dozens of questions and no answers. However, certain things made sense in light of what Potter told him. "That was why you disappeared... you were hiding from the conspirators..."

Potter nodded silently, and Voldemort could see he had no intention of elaborating further on his means of disappearance and hiding. He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on this. There would be many opportunities for it later, once he had acquired a proper body instead of the pathetic one he currently resided in. He cleared his mind of Potter's motivations and focused on what he had been offered. He still thought Potter's proposal was strange. If Potter eventually planned on opposing him, then it would not make sense for him to offer to help him return to full strength now. He had a few more questions to ask Potter before he would respond to Potter's proposal. "You will forgive me if I am skeptical... why would you make this offer? I killed your parents. I tried to kill you as an infant, most likely for reasons you do not know. I may try to do so again. Yet you appear... unconcerned. Do you not believe in my ability to best you, if I so desire?"

Potter was clearly surprised by his questions. "I suspect your desire to kill me came out of an assessment that I may be a threat in the future - how you came to suspect this I do not know, but I believe the assessment is correct, in terms of ability if not of motivation. I am also not so arrogant as to think myself to be the Dark Lord's superior in combat. My lack of concern is because _there is simply no reason for us to fight._ I believe our goals are largely orthogonal, so long as you halt your crusade on those of impure blood."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes once more and spoke with traces of venom in his voice. "You presume to tell me what I can or can't do, Potter?"

"I presume no such thing, my Lord. I merely believe that if you seek further power, there is not much of it to be acquired by pandering to old pureblood families - I would assume their secrets are known to you by now. For the acquisition of further power what is necessary is new knowledge, and pureblood bigotry prevents much of the wizarding world from exploring the required path of discovery."

Voldemort smirked. Potter was perceptive - almost _too _perceptive. He shouldn't have expected him to be fooled by propaganda. Potter's assessment was correct - the wizarding world was stuck in the past and had not made significant progress in centuries, and a significant reason behind it was the prejudices of wealthy and influential families who blocked the avenues for such "muggle" research. They had much to offer in way of political power and wealth, and some secrets of magic that they keep to themselves, but their refusal to take a holistic view of nature prevented them from acquiring true power.

He did not grace Potter's comment with a verbal response, but he could tell that Potter knew he agreed with what had been said. Instead, after some time spent in silence, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "We have digressed far from our... negotiation." He paused before responding to Potter's request. The right answer was obvious. "I accept your proposal."

Potter nodded once more, took out his wand and began the long chain of wand motions and incantations required for permanent body conjuration, which Voldemort had known of but was unable to perform while residing in his weak rudimentary body.

* * *

An hour later, the Dark Marks of all Death Eaters across the world burned with searing pain. The Dark Lord had returned.


	9. Cornelius Fudge

Harry appeared in the library, mentally exhausted, and plopped himself down on a chair. Permanent body conjuration required extremely fine attention to detail and did not tolerate any mistakes, so it was difficult and tiring to perform even with the aid of a wand. There were not many sorcerers who would know how to create a body which was capable of hosting a soul as intricate as the Dark Lord's - in Britain, the only one Harry knew who would be capable of such a feat was Albus Dumbledore, and he would not be open to the prospect of aiding the Dark Lord's rise to power.

He had, of course, not been entirely honest about his motivations to aid the Dark Lord's return - the Dark Lord was dangerous and Harry had no doubt that at some point in the future he was going to become a problem. For now, however, the Dark Lord was the only person with both the perfect position and the perfect incentive to dislodge the reactionary attitudes prevalent in all levels of the British government. In time, he would turn his attention towards other endeavors, and it was then that Harry thought he would prove to be a problem. Nevertheless, Harry thought that in this case, the reward was well worth the risk. The added benefit of having access to inside information from the Department of Mysteries was only the icing on the cake.

For now, what made him confident of his own safety was his possession of the horcrux. It was a serious liability for the Dark Lord, since if the soul shard within a horcrux was to be destroyed (which was more difficult than destroying the horcrux itself), it would create a violent mental and spiritual backlash against the creator of the horcrux. The result would be similar to what the Dark Lord had suffered thirteen years ago, when Harry and Ravenclaw had conjectured the Dark Lord had managed to inflict the same damage on himself. This was a risk inherent in the use of a horcrux, and it was the real reason why they needed to be kept in secure locations. The destruction of the horcrux itself, but not of the soul shard, would merely result in the reunification of the soul shard along the connection, and not do much damage to the sorcerer who'd created it.

The threat of destroying the soul shard had went unsaid, but Harry knew the Dark Lord had understood the reason behind his apparently unfounded courage. It was simply not a threat Harry was daring enough to make openly, and it was a weakness the Dark Lord did not want to admit openly, which meant that part of the negotiation had been carried out silently.

"Did the meeting proceed as expected?"

Harry looked up to see Ravenclaw eyeing him with curiosity and no small amount of concern. "Yes. The meeting itself was the least challenging part of this plan, however. It is from now on that we will begin to face... difficulties."

Ravenclaw lost the concern in her expression after hearing that the meeting went according to plan. Her curiosity only increased, however. "I gather that we were correct in our evaluation of Lord Voldemort's personality?"

Harry nodded. "We were. In time he will become a threat, no doubt, but for the moment I trust he will act in line with our expectations." With a frown on his face, Harry continued. "I shared with him what we'd discovered about the conspiracy, and he was quite surprised by it. I don't think Rookwood himself will have any directly pertinant information, since I believe he would've shared any such intelligence with the Dark Lord, but whatever information he does have should be a start."

"How do you plan to proceed once you've acquired the information on the identities of the Unspeakables?"

Harry placed his right elbow on the arm of the chair and put his hand under his chin, his expression turning contemplative. "I would like nothing better than to interrogate them directly, but that is out of the question now. Not only would it create trouble with the law, but I don't trust my ability to subdue any of the conspirators involved. If the ward on the Express is any indication, they will be quite skilled and dangerous." Harry paused. "Exactly how I proceed depends on the nature of the information I am able to glean from Rookwood - if all I can get is a list of names, the only way forward may be to infiltrate the Department directly; either in person or through use of the Imperius on one of the Unspeakables who are comparatively less capable of defending themselves. It is a risky plan, one I have no doubt that the Unspeakables have taken some precautions against, so I am hoping that Rookwood has more information than simply a list of names. I would rather not resort to this method if I don't have to."

Ravenclaw made a humming noise. "That is reasonable. How will you handle the... other problem?"

The other problem Ravenclaw was referring to was the problem of Albus Dumbledore. Harry had no intention of openly antagonizing the man, at least not at this point. Eventually, like the Dark Lord's thirst for power, Dumbledore's undying support for liberalism would have to be dealt with; but for now the man was in a position of significant power and he was not above using illegal means to combat the Dark Lord if he proves to be too much of a risk too quickly. Harry had been surprised to learn, through use of Legilimency on the unsuspecting Minchum, that Dumbledore led an illegal resistance group against the Dark Lord's followers during the War - the Order of the Phoenix. From what he'd been able to learn, the Order had significant success in containing the worst of the atrocities committed by pureblood fanatics, which was encouraging.

Harry did not know how the Dark Lord planned to break the prejudices leading to intellectual sloth in the British wizarding community, but depending on the circumstances it was conceivable for him to meet resistance, in which case whatever remained of the Order could be repurposed into blocking their attempts at retaining their influence. The prejudices were too ingrained in the minds of the old families at this point for them to change their minds overnight simply because the Dark Lord asked them to. However powerful he may be, the Dark Lord was only one man, and he could not resist the combined might of the pureblood elites alone. For now, however, Harry would leave that part of the scheming to the Dark Lord.

All this meant that it would benefit Harry to have a cordial, if not friendly, relationship with Dumbledore. For that to happen, he'd have to provide an explanation to him about the reason behind his disappearance, and he would have to do so in a way without exposing too much about his motives too early on. He would have to tell Dumbledore a story which was convincing enough for him to accept it. With these thoughts on his mind, Harry responded.

"Tell him the truth, but not the whole truth. I doubt Dumbledore has any need to know of your identity, and if he asks I could simply tell him that I was asked to keep it a secret. I've no doubt he would be curious, but he would accept the explanation, and that's all I need him to do."

"I see." Ravenclaw looked as if she wanted to say more but was hesitating, so Harry gestured for her to go on. She relented. "I've said this many times before, but Dumbledore and Voldemort are both intelligent, capable and _dangerous_. Sometimes I wonder if you've unleashed more than you're capable of controlling."

Harry let out a chuckle. "I'm under no illusion that I can _control _either the Dark Lord or Albus Dumbledore. There will be unintended consequences of what I've done today and what I will do in the future. The best I can hope for is to contain them insofar as they are harmful to civilization. It is no different with Albus Dumbledore, who is more of a political threat than a martial one, at least for the time being. I believe that with the right approach, he will not become a significant impediment to our project for quite some time."

Ravenclaw sighed. "I wonder how we have reached the point at which we must take such risks to have any hope of achieving anything."

Harry's expression turned dark in response to this comment. "What has happened to the wizarding world in the past will stay in the past. I've no intention of allowing this miserable state of affairs to continue, and if risks must be taken to ensure that it does not, then that's the reality we will have to contend with. Under these circumstances we do not have the luxury of being picky about what course of action we will take."

"I am very much aware... painfully aware, in fact. Perhaps my words are simply indication of longing for days long past... in the present, however, the situation has degenerated so much that we're compelled to take risks we're not sure we can control. It is unfortunate." Ravenclaw closed her eyes in a moment of silence, and Harry did not dare to break it. When she reopened her eyes he could see she was once again focused on the present moment. "There is one last matter. You will have to visit the Ministry soon if you are to operate within the boundaries of the law. Be careful - given what they have done so far, I don't think it to be beyond the conspirators to attempt something within the building." She paused. "In addition, you may have to... _convince _the Minister if he proves to be resistant to your advances. I hope you're prepared."

Harry was amused at the irony of the situation, but he could not find it in himself to empathize with the predicament of Cornelius Fudge. The man was a bigot and a fool who was under the control of the old families, especially the Malfoy family. He was figuratively the second coming of Unctuous Osbert, and eventually Harry knew he may have to follow in the footsteps of Croyne regarding Fudge's damaging actions in his capacity as Minister. In the coming days, however, he was in need of Fudge's assistance - what he needed from the Ministry to operate independently within the boundaries of the law could only be given to him with the approval, direct or indirect, of the Minister for Magic. In this instance, Harry hoped Fudge's incompetence and openness to manipulation would serve to lubricate the process. He did not want to resort to employing means of direct mental manipulation on Fudge, since even the reasonable suspicion that he may have done such a thing would significantly damage his reputation. Satisfied with what he had planned for the occasion, Harry smiled and replied.

"I will be careful, and I am prepared."

* * *

"_As many esteemed members of this court are aware, the Department of Mysteries was once my place of employment. I wholeheartedly believe that the role of the Department in British society is a crucial one, and it has served this role faithfully for more than 150 years as of this date. The value of discovery and knowledge was underestimated by many in the recent past, and I must express my disappointment that even today, there are some within these halls who do not see the wisdom of Ralston Potter and Procyon Rigel Black for their role in creating and organizing the Department of Mysteries. It was designed so that potentially dangerous knowledge could be obtained and used for the good of our society while being kept out of the hands of those who would misuse it. It is essential that it continues performing its role unimpeded._

_I admit that my disagreements with ex-Minister Lufkin may have been... less than professional at times. However, my decision to leave my position was not one made out of spite. Madam Lufkin used her position to obtain information about the activities of the Department in a manner defying the code of conduct for her office, and she audaciously overstepped her boundaries of duty and authority by ordering us to cease many of our research projects. If she had succeeded, some of the inventions made in the last three decades would've been out of reach - among them are new methods of specialization for wands, numerous new spells and wards designed to improve the security of households and government offices, and the unification of the most recent Muggle advances in an area known as thermodynamics with magical theory. I don't expect the esteemed members of this court to be familiar with the finer details of the subjects I speak of, but rest assured that their importance to the global wizarding community cannot be overstated. I resisted her increasingly hostile attempts, as a result of which she conspired to cut the Department's access to supplies and used her position to influence the Daily Prophet to launch a campaign aiming to discredit both my own person and the Department of Mysteries as a whole. It was the fact that this transgression worthy of impeachment went unpunished by the Wizengamot that compelled me to leave my position. _

_While the deceased Madam Lufkin may never have to answer for her many crimes against this society, I believe that this trial will nevertheless help the country find closure after decades of misrule and abuse of power. I trust that this court will do what is necessary to ensure that such dark times will become a thing of the past._"

\- from Grand Sorcerer Croyne's testimony in the 1828 trial in absentia of Artemisia Lufkin by the Wizengamot on charges of abuse of authority and high treason

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was not having a good day. He was currently sitting in his office at eleven in the morning, rubbing his head with his hands, trying desperately to stay awake so he could prepare himself to see his next visitor in line. He hadn't got a good night's sleep in three days. The Ministry and the public were in an uproar about Dumbledore's latest ridiculous claim, that You-Know-Who had returned from the world of the dead and was about to start his reign of terror once more. Fudge had his hands full holding meetings in his office with the heads of various departments, and he suspected this to be Dumbledore's latest attempt at seizing more power for himself. The man was Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; and he was still not satisfied with the amount of power he had. Fudge knew what Dumbledore was like - he was cunning, manipulative and ruthless when he needed to be, and he acted like a kind old man when it suited him better. The only person Fudge had seen in his life who had more hunger for power than Dumbledore was You-Know-Who. Because of this, despite his initial naivete in seeking Dumbledore's counsel when he was first inaugurated, he was now extremely wary of the man's attempts at discrediting him and claiming the post of Minister for himself or for one of his puppets. He denied it, of course, but who would openly admit that they had such nefarious designs?

In his many years working in the Ministry as an official and his term in office as Minister, he had learned how the game of politics was played. He knew what Dumbledore was trying to do. He aimed to create a state of panic in the general public which Fudge would fail to address, then he himself would step in as the savior of the wizarding world once again and claim more power with the excuse of strengthening the defenses of the British wizarding community in advance of an attack by You-Know-Who. It was an ingenious plan, Fudge had to give Dumbledore credit for that.

Fudge, however, would not sit idly by while Dumbledore was laying the groundwork for his incoming coup. He had to make the public see Dumbledore for what he truly was, which was a manipulative, power-hungry old man who would lie and deceive to strengthen his grip on the wizarding world. He could use the influence held by the Ministry over the Daily Prophet to unleash a campaign of propaganda on Dumbledore. Yes, that would work well - Dumbledore had made an oversight, which was his ignorance about the public's unwillingness to admit the return of You-Know-Who. Fudge knew that they would much rather believe Dumbledore to be a crackpot who was fabricating stories rather than accept that You-Know-Who was back, and from the grave, no less! This time, Fudge would not be outplayed by Dumbledore.

At that moment, he became aware of a significant amount of noise coming from outside his office. He could not make out what was being said, but the situation was abnormal, even for the unusually hectic mood the Ministry has been in for the last three days. The voices were gradually getting louder, and Fudge resolved to see what was happening outside of his office and stood up. As he was walking towards the door, it was opened from the other side and one of his secretaries, a young woman in her twenties with long auburn hair and brown eyes, entered his office and spoke with haste.

"Minister, Harry Potter is here to see you. He says the matter is urgent."

Fudge froze and for a few moments his brain stopped working. _Harry Potter? _"Are you... certain of this?"

"Yes, Minister. We confirmed his identity using a blood test, and he was checked for any means of disguise, including Polyjuice and metamorphmagus abilities. There's no doubt that the man is Harry Potter."

Fudge did not know how to react. The situation was so unexpected and out of his calculations that he opted to simply fall back into routine procedure. "...Very well. I will see him now, you may let him come in." With that, he moved back to his chair and seated himself, trying to prepare himself for this bizarre unscheduled meeting. He added as an afterthought, "Don't let any other visitors inside until we're done." The secretary nodded, left the room and closed the door. After a few moments, the door was opened yet again and this time a young man who appeared to be in his mid-teens stepped in. He was wearing high-quality black robes, which Fudge recognized from experience to be made out of acromantula silk, and he had a pair of expensive-looking rings on both of his ring fingers. His eyes were a startlingly clear emerald, matching the color of the gem of the ring on his left ring finger. He appeared to be somewhat tired and weary, but his movements were graceful regardless. Fudge could see his resemblance to James Potter, who he'd met on numerous occasions. There, standing in his office, was Harry Potter.

"I hope you will accept my apologies for arriving in such an abrupt and unscheduled manner, Minister, but given the circumstances I wanted to meet you first before taking any other action."

Fudge did not know what these "circumstances" were, and he desperately hoped that they did not have anything to do with Dumbledore's story that You-Know-Who had risen from the grave. If Dumbledore had managed to find Potter and get him on board with his conspiracy, then it would be much more difficult to discredit them both at the same time. Was Potter here to attempt to convince him that You-Know-Who had returned? It would certainly be what he would describe as an urgent matter. "I... see. Mr Potter, you must excuse my straightforwardness, but we've been looking for you for nearly three years. Where have you been for all of this time?"

Potter merely smiled and gestured with his right hand towards one of the two chairs in front of his desk. "May I, Minister? This story is a rather long one."

"Of course, Mr Potter."

Potter seated himself, his expression turned serious before he began explaining. "In the days leading up to October 1st 1991, I was the victim of repeated attacks, carried out in stealth, within Hogwarts. I don't know who was responsible, but some of them were of a lethal nature, and I had cause to believe that the Dark Lord's former followers were involved. When it became apparent that my safety in the castle could not be ensured, I had to flee the castle."

Fudge was shocked at this proclamation. "You mean to say you were attacked with intent to kill inside Hogwarts?!"

Potter simply nodded. "Yes, Minister."

There was a lot about this story that did not make sense to Fudge. He began asking questions. "Why didn't you inform any of the staff? They could've taken measures to protect you, or evacuated you from the castle safely."

Potter looked surprised. "I _did _inform the staff, Minister, but it did not stop the attacks." Potter paused, and he appeared doubtful for a brief moment before continuing with a weaker voice. "If I may say so in confidence, Minister, I've always had my suspicions about the staff at Hogwarts since I learned that Severus Snape was once a Death Eater. He was acquitted in the 1981 trials on Dumbledore's testimony, but I've heard rumors that the Dark Mark can only be taken by one who truly believes in the Dark Lord's cause. I don't trust Severus Snape, and Dumbledore's involvement in his acquittal appears suspicious to me."

Fudge did not show any outward reaction other than a slight furrowing of his brows, but inwardly he was gleeful. _Potter was suspicious of Dumbledore! _He himself had suspicions about Severus Snape in the past, and if Potter agreed with him, it would mean the chance he was cooperating with Dumbledore was slim. He did not notice Potter's lips curl up ever so slightly as he was lost in his thoughts. Eventually, he continued. "Yes, I myself have had suspicions similar to yours in the past. Do you have evidence that Severus Snape was behind these... incidents?"

Potter shook his head. "No, Minister. As I said, they were carried out in stealth - curses fired from hiding spots and placed on my belongings, for example. The perpetrators made sure there were never any eyewitnesses."

Fudge was confused. "In that case, what made you suspect that You-Know-Who's followers were involved?"

Potter raised his right hand and slowly traced a lightning shape on his forehead, and Fudge noticed that the scar Potter was famous for was absent. He was about to comment before Potter spoke. "I used to have a scar here, left by the Dark Lord on the day he tried to kill me... it was a cursed scar, one of its kind. From the day I arrived at Hogwarts, the scar would sometimes burn painfully when it had never done so before, and always in close proximity to Quirinus Quirrell, who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor at the time. I informed both Professor Flitwick and Professor Dumbledore about this unusual reaction, but they did nothing. It was how I came to suspect a connection between Quirrell and the Dark Lord."

Fudge thought about what Potter told him. He had some faint memory of a man named Quirinus Quirrell being a teacher at Hogwarts, but he did not recall anything further than that. If Potter was right, this matter needed to be investigated further. It could even be of use as further ammunition against Dumbledore - rumors that he had allowed a follower of You-Know-Who into the school and did nothing as the man tried to kill Potter would do a great deal of harm to his reputation. Fudge could certainly work with that. For now, however, he would hear the rest of Potter's story. "What happened after you left Hogwarts?"

Potter smiled, the expression having a depth to it that was not present in any of his other smiles so far. "I was found by a... highly talented sorceress who made me an offer of apprenticeship. She said it would be dangerous for me to be out in the wizarding world with so many of the Dark Lord's sympathizers out in the open without the means to defend myself, and she said she had always wanted an apprentice to carry on her legacy, but never found one who she judged to be worthy. I accepted, and we stayed in a place she'd warded against hostile intrusion and methods of detection for nearly three years." Potter's smile turned wistful. "I learned a great deal from her, and I owe her a debt I doubt I will ever be able to repay for what she has done for me."

Fudge hadn't known what to expect when he asked the question, but that story made a great deal of more sense than any of the ridiculous rumors flying around about Harry Potter's fate. It was clear from the way Potter spoke of this woman that he had a great deal of respect for her, and it made Fudge curious about her identity. "Could you tell me the identity of this... sorceress?"

Potter smiled and shook his head. "I apologize, Minister, but I can't. She made me swear an oath of secrecy not to reveal her identity, and if there's one thing I will not do, it is to go back on a promise I made to her."

Fudge was disappointed, but once again he did not let it show on his face. From what he could infer regarding Potter's feelings about the situation from what he had said and done so far, he would not react well to anything he perceived as a slight against this mysterious woman, and Fudge had no reason to antagonize Potter over something so trivial at this point. If Potter wanted to keep some secrets, Fudge certainly had no problem with that. He was more curious about why Potter had come to him with this information. He was glad to have Potter's trust, but he felt there was more to the story than that. "I see. Well, I will certainly not force you to do anything you don't wish to do. I will certainly have the matter of these attacks and that of Quirinus Quirrell investigated, and if we find anything I will let you know. Is there anything else you wished to tell me?"

Potter nodded. "Thank you for your concern, Minister. Yes, there are some matters regarding which I was hoping to get your assistance, though they are somewhat... unusual."

Fudge was undeniably curious now. If he played his cards right, he could manipulate the situation to his advantage and obtain Potter's favor, and by extension, his political support. Potter would be especially useful in his planned campaign to discredit Dumbledore. "Oh? Do tell, Mr Potter. I would be glad to be of assistance in any way I can."

Potter sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I will go through them in order. I assume, Minister, that you're aware of the identity of my magical guardian?"

Fudge had an inkling of what Potter was leading up to with this question. "Yes, I am aware. Your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore."

"Indeed, Minister. I am sure that you would agree with me if I said that this circumstance is rather... _displeasing_. I would like to rectify it, and I require your assistance with that."

Fudge wholeheartedly agreed with Potter's judgement of Dumbledore's guardianship over him. So long as Dumbledore was Potter's guardian, Fudge's access to Potter would be limited, and Fudge did not like Dumbledore having that kind of power over Potter. Besides, any way in which he could distance Dumbledore from Potter was viable, in his opinion. "Yes, I can't say I disagree... well, do you have an alternative guardian in mind?"

Potter blinked. "That is not how I intend to rectify the circumstance, Minister."

It was only then that Fudge understood, and the enormity of the favor Potter was requesting from him became apparent. "You want to be emancipated as a minor?"

"Yes."

Fudge closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Emancipation _was_ a legal course of action, and as Minister he had the authority to do it, but it was highly unusual, especially for a fourteen-year-old. Still, what he saw of Potter's behavior reflected an unusual maturity for his age, and he could see the merits of this course of action. Presumably, Potter wanted access to his family vault at Gringotts and he wanted to avoid the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, both of which would require him to be emancipated. What Fudge was most curious about, however, was what Potter was willing to do in exchange for this favor. "That is a possibility... but as you've said, Mr Potter, it's quite unorthodox. I am unsure if it would be wise..."

A smirk appeared on Potter's face, and Fudge got the impression that he was willing to negotiate from the expression. "It would be unwise to emancipate a minor whose magical guardian left him at a Muggle household for ten years, where he was psychologically abused and neglected?"

Fudge's eyes snapped open and he looked directly at Potter. He could only utter a single word. "_What?!_"

Potter's smirk grew wider at his reaction, but he did not respond verbally. After a moment, Fudge elaborated on his bafflement. "How... is this really true?"

"Does that really matter, Minister? Perhaps there is some truth to it, but what matters is that if I am questioned about it, _that is what I will say._"

Fudge could barely stop himself from gaping. Was Potter offering to fabricate a story of abuse so that Fudge could use the emancipation to improve his own reputation? Indeed, if Potter were to claim that he had been mistreated by Muggles during his childhood under Dumbledore's guardianship, his emancipation would boost his reputation while damaging Dumbledore's. It was perfect. If Potter was willing to go that far, Fudge had no reason to refuse Potter's request. "Well... in that case, I'm sure something can be arranged, Mr Potter."

Potter's smirk vanished and turned into a smile looking decidedly less sinister than a moment ago. "I truly appreciate your assistance, Minister. Now that this matter has been dealt with, I believe I can move on to the next one. I have no intention of returning to Hogwarts at this point, so I intend to take my O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations here, under Ministry supervision. I also require an apparition license. I trust that will not be a problem?"

That request was not unusual for an emancipated minor, though Fudge had doubts about the ability of a fourteen-year-old to pass the N.E.W.T. exams. It was not his problem, however, and Potter had the right to make this request anyway; all he would do is expedite the process. As for an apparition license, it would normally not be possible while Potter was underage, but if he were to be emancipated it would not be a problem. Fudge saw no harm in agreeing to these requests, but there was one thing he had to be certain of before doing too much for Potter.

"Not at all, Mr Potter, in fact I dare say I may be able to expedite the process somewhat for your convenience." Fudge paused for a moment before asking the crucial question. "Mr Potter, I believe you must've heard the... rumors of You-Know-Who's return that have recently been going around in... disreputable circles. What is your opinion on this matter?"

Potter looked surprised by his question. "Well, Minister, I must say that I don't usually listen to rumors going around in disreputable circles, and I've seen no evidence that such a thing would be possible. I think the story was most likely fabricated for some other purpose."

Fudge could not contain his beaming expression this time. If Potter did not believe these rumors, then he could prove to be an invaluable ally in his campaign against Dumbledore, and it didn't even look as if Potter needed to be nudged in that direction, given the attitudes he so far expressed regarding Dumbledore in the conversation. The entire situation was a boon that Fudge was not expecting, and one he would certainly not fail to exploit to his benefit.

"Yes, I see, Mr Potter. I must say it hasn't been easy to find a voice of sanity and reason these past few days in the midst of this recent case of mass hysteria. I am glad to see that you are willing to be one." Fudge paused to see Potter smile, but Potter did not say anything, so he continued. "Well, now that that's out of the way, let's get down to the required paperwork..."


	10. Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore exited the fireplace connected to the Floo Network with haste and rushed through the Ministry Atrium. He had received word that Harry Potter arrived at the Ministry and was now in a private meeting with Cornelius Fudge a few minutes ago, and had promptly abandoned his prior engagement as soon as he could in favor of seeking out Harry. He was truly glad that the boy was in fine health - he had feared the worst when the boy disappeared. He also had many questions to ask him.

Unfortunately for Albus, the Ministry was by this point inundated with reporters, both due to Lord Voldemort's return and, Albus suspected, due to word getting out of Harry Potter's presence in the Ministry. He had barely taken two steps before he felt the eyes of every reporter in the Atrium turn towards him, and he knew he was in for a real challenge if he wanted to make it to Cornelius' office in any reasonable amount of time. Within ten seconds, he was already being bombarded by questions spoken over each other.

"Mr. Dumbledore, is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned?"

"What led you to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back from the dead?"

"Should British citizens be concerned for their safety?"

"Are the attacks on muggleborns going to resume?"

"Mr. Dumbledore, what do you have to say about the rumors that you've concocted the story of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return to throw Minister Fudge out of office?"

Even in the midst of the chaos, the last question made Albus subtly shake his head. Cornelius was once again peddling conspiracy theories in his paranoia. How does one even respond to such charges? Regardless of how he responds, or if he responds at all, his standing is damaged. The man had become too attached to his own office, and was now terrified of anything which could see him leave it, and that included Albus due to his respected position in the wizarding community. Albus sometimes wondered how it was possible for Cornelius to reach a conclusion which was the complete opposite of the truth - in reality, Albus wanted nothing to do with the multitude of offices and titles he held outside the school, and only held them out of necessity, along with a sense of duty and responsibility. He had been _offered _the position of Minister in the past, and he had _declined_. Cornelius' phobia was truly insatiable.

Thankfully, at that moment the reporters became aware of a disturbance on the other side of the atrium, and ceased their questioning to get a better look at what was going on. A few moments later, Albus heard a few consecutive loud banging noises, and the Atrium fell into silence. The sea of reporters began to part as Albus noticed a man making his way through the gradually forming gap, heading right to his location. Even in the large crowd, and despite how much it had changed, Albus recognized the feeling of the man's magic after reaching out - it was Harry Potter.

Indeed, soon enough, the crowd of reporters parted on his end after Harry raised his wand and let out another loud bang. Harry walked in hurried steps towards him, came to a stop in front of him and spoke.

"Professor, I had intended to visit you after my business here was concluded. It is earlier than I anticipated, but I believe I have enough time for a conversation right now." Harry paused and looked around him, before his gaze focused on him once again. "There are matters of a sensitive nature I need to discuss with you. Could we retire to someplace more private?"

Albus did not know what business Harry had at the Ministry, but he believed he would learn about it soon enough. He smiled gently. "Of course, Harry. I believe my office at Hogwarts is quite private this time of the year." Harry let out a geniune chuckle in response to this comment, and allowed Albus to lead him to the fireplace with his hand on his back. They both took some Floo powder, and vanished from the Atrium in green flames.

They appeared one after the other in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, and Albus made his way to his chair, while Harry seated himself on the chair opposite Albus'. He initiated the conversation. "Harry, I will of course hear you out, but I fear you must indulge an old man's curiosity about your adventures first. I trust that you're in good health?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor. I've not had any problems with my health since my... departure."

Albus smiled. He was glad that nothing had befallen the boy in his absence from the castle. "Excellent. I must say, Harry, that in your absence you had many people worrying about your continued good health."

"I would imagine so, Professor." Harry paused. "Professor, the matters I need to discuss with you are related to my disappearance. I think I could provide a joint explanation for them both, but some of what I have to say might be difficult to believe. I hope you will hear me out fully, you have my word that I will not lie to you."

Albus was very curious now. What could Harry have to say which he would have difficulty believing? He did not want Harry to withhold any information in fear of ridicule, so he reassured the boy in a gentle tone. "In that case, Harry, you have my word that I will listen to everything you have to say. You may start your explanation at your leisure."

Harry sighed, preparing for a long story. "Very well, Professor. Let me start from the beginning..."

* * *

By the end of Harry's explanation, Albus' expression was one of barely concealed fury. He had rarely felt like this in his life, but hearing that Harry had encountered illegal mental manipulation wards on the Hogwarts Express and his theory of a conspiracy involving the Department of Mysteries had managed to put him in the appropriate mood. He had heard about the mysterious sorceress who managed to get him out of the castle wards unnoticed, apparently even removed the soul shard of Voldemort that he had suspected to have latched itself on Harry that night. However, his mind was focused almost entirely on these wards. Who would dare to do such a thing? How could it go unnoticed for however long as the wards were in place?

Albus sighed. This was not the time for feeling anger. Harry had been a victim of the situation, and he was not helping by losing himself to his fury. He willed himself to calm down, looked at Harry and asked the question on his mind. "Why did you not come to me with this information earlier, Harry?"

"Professor, you must understand that I did not know who to trust at the time. I came to you about Professor Quirrell, and I knew you suspected exactly what I did, and yet you did nothing about the situation. I also didn't realize how serious the problem was until my master managed to identify the wards by going through my memories. If I had known the extent of the problem earlier, I would've told you without delay."

Albus could only nod gravely. He had suspected Quirrell to be connected to Voldemort, but he hadn't known that he was being possessed. It was a careless oversight on his part, and his insistence on attempting to exploit the situation by keeping Quirrell on his staff had alienated Harry from him. It was a regrettable mistake, and one he did not intend to repeat in the future. Harry chose this moment to speak in a somewhat ashamed tone of voice.

"Professor, I also think I should inform you about the nature of my meeting with the Minister today."

Albus had forgotten entirely about Harry's meeting with the Minister after the shocking revelation, so the reminder was much appreciated. Harry's tone of voice, however, was quite foreboding. "Of course, Harry. Forgive my lapse in attention."

Harry smiled. "There is nothing to forgive, Professor. I understand that the unfortunate situation with Quirrell must've been difficult for you as well." After a pause, he continued. "Even the best of us make mistakes, Professor. It is no use blaming yourself for them after the fact."

Albus briefly wondered how he had found himself in a situation where he was receiving life advice from a fourteen year old boy, but it was one of the least strange things he had come to know in the last thirty minutes, so he dismissed the thought without much consideration. He nodded. "Indeed, Harry, indeed..."

There was a moment of silence before Harry began to explain. "I met with the Minister to request emancipation, along with the chance to take a test for an apparition license and to take the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams at the Ministry at the earliest possible opportunity."

Albus looked at Harry intently. He fully expected Harry to be able to pass the exams without any difficulty - he could tell that much even from this brief conversation. He was, however, not certain about Harry's motivations for asking for emancipation, and what he had done to convince Cornelius to grant his request. "I see. If I may ask, Harry, how did you convince Cornelius to aid you with this unusual request?"

Harry's bashful attitude made Albus think that Harry would rather not say, but after a moment he broke the silence. "I may have deceived him into believing that I agree with his... conspiracy theories, and hinted that I would help him in his campaign to discredit you, Professor."

He appeared as if he was expecting a reprimand, and his expression turned to one of geniune surprise when Albus started laughing. After a few seconds, he waved his hand as a gesture of dismissing Harry's concerns, and spoke. "Do not fret over it, Harry. I myself have relied on deception in the past when it was necessary, and I can't fault you for resorting to it when the circumstances are so demanding." He paused as Harry struggled to wipe the incredulous expression off his face, and continued. "If you're concerned about my good reputation, I assure you that Cornelius is quite set in his ways. I doubt anything you could've done would have dissuaded him from his endeavors. If you've managed to salvage something from this dire situation, you should count yourself successful."

Albus watched Harry's internal struggle in how to respond with an amused expression and twinkling eyes. It took a few seconds for Harry to regain his bearings. "I must admit, Professor, I did not expect you to be so... relaxed about the situation."

Albus' expression became serious, and he spoke gravely. "If I had thought there was a chance Cornelius could be made to see reason, I would've been concerned. As things stand, I'm afraid nothing short of Lord Voldemort appearing in a public location for all to see will convince Cornelius that he has returned."

Harry nodded. "I think you're right, Professor. I doubt Lord Voldemort intends to reveal his return anytime soon, and I believe we may find his aims to have... changed."

Albus had the same suspicions for quite some time, and he was not surprised that Harry had come to the same conclusion on his own. He was a truly remarkable young man. After a moment of thought, Albus reached a decision. "You've confided in me with quite a lot today, Harry. Now, I feel I must return the favor." As Harry watched him curiously, he raised his wand to his temple and withdrew a strand of memory. He stood up, gesturing for Harry for do the same, and walked over to the Pensieve to deposit the memory inside.

"What do you intend to show me, Professor?"

Albus sighed. "The reason why Lord Voldemort attempted to kill you as an infant." With that, they began watching the memory of the job interview of Sybill Trelawney held in Hog's Head.

* * *

When they were done watching the memory, Albus saw a contemplative expression on Harry's face. He decided to provide further context.

"The spy of Lord Voldemort only heard the first two lines of the prophecy, and informed him of the part that he'd heard. Lord Voldemort believed that the prophecy referred to you, perhaps because he thought you to be somehow similar to himself."

Harry nodded silently, clearly still thinking about what he'd learned. Albus let him have the time he needed to sort out his thoughts. Eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"Professor, I must admit that I know little about Divination, so I am not certain how much significance this observation has; but the prophecy only refers to 'the Dark Lord', not to Lord Voldemort personally."

Albus' eyes widened as he realized what Harry was implying. "You're quite right, Harry. Divination is not a well understood field - I daresay that even I had little expertise in it before the incident I showed you. I don't know whether it is possible for the prophecy to be referring to a Dark Lord other than Lord Voldemort. If it were to be the case, however, I fear the implications."

Harry hummed. "In any event, I doubt there is much to be done about it now." After a pause, he continued. "Professor, I think we have good cause to believe that Lord Voldemort has multiple horcruxes given the manner in which he was... temporarily weakened. Do you have any clues as to how many he might've made?"

Albus' eyes widened at Harry's deduction. He had his suspicions already, based on how controlled Harry's magic appeared to be; but what Harry said was confirmation that the mysterious sorceress who taught Harry must have extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts, and had no compunction about passing that knowledge down to Harry. It was remarkable that despite this, Harry showed none of the signs of corruption associated with their careless practice. It was a testament to both Harry's ability and his instructor's expertise. Since Harry was adamant on not revealing the identity of his instructor, Albus let the matter slide for now, and focused on answering Harry's question.

"I have arrived at the same conclusion, Harry. Unfortunately, I don't know how many horcruxes Lord Voldemort has made, but I have managed to identify and destroy one - it was through a rather unfortunate set of coincidences, I'm afraid."

"I understand." Harry hesitated before continuing. "I would rather not resort to such means, but if it becomes absolutely necessary, the horcruxes Lord Voldemort has made could be used against him..."

Albus knew what Harry was referring to, and he would also rather not resort to those means. Destroying a soul shard was a risky procedure which had great potential to backfire on the practicioner. He knew in theory how it could be done, but it was something he had never tried before in his life, and any sorcerer who treasured the integrity of their soul and their ability to use magic would never attempt it.

"What you speak of is the darkest of arts, Harry. It is a piece of magic that is not meant to be used... even if it was a miraculous success, it would only serve to postpone the problem."

Harry agreed with a silent nod. "I know, Professor. I would not dare to attempt it... forgive me for even making the suggestion." Harry looked suitably abashed, and Albus was pleased to see his geniune reaction. It was a sign that the integrity of the soul was something Harry held in very high regard, like the practicioners of chaotic magic of old. It was a degree of reverence which was lost on those who called themselves dark wizards today, and their lack of regard for it allowed for careless practice which led many of them to insanity. Albus realized that Harry himself must've been instructed in the traditions of old chaotic magic - it fit everything he observed in his time with him. It was not something he had expected, but it would make things much easier for him, especially given the outrageous problem he was faced with now regarding the Hogwarts Express. As he was contemplating how to handle this latest issue, Harry spoke up.

"Professor, I'm afraid I have to leave for the Ministry soon." Harry paused. "What do you plan to do?"

Albus closed his eyes, his expression weary. "Once you've left, I will gather all of the available teachers in the castle and investigate the Express. I will attempt to ascertain the exact nature of the wards, though from what you have told me I believe I will not be successful in this endeavor. I will remove them from the Express afterwards."

Harry hummed. "Do you intend to reveal the situation to the public?" Even as he asked the question, Harry realized how ridiculous it sounded.

Albus smiled and shook his head. "I believe, Harry, that there is no need for me to aid Cornelius in his most recent project."

Harry laughed, shaking his head in amusement while making his way towards the fireplace. "I agree completely, Professor." Harry stopped in front of the fireplace and turned to look at him once more. "You make for good company, Professor, even in these troubled times. If you need to contact me, or vice versa, I'm sure you've noticed the diary I've placed on your desk with a Protean Charm on it."

Albus' eyes twinkled in amusement. "Indeed I have, Harry."

Harry nodded and picked up some Floo powder. "Goodbye, Professor. I believe we'll see each other again soon." With that farewell, Harry vanished in green flames, just before Albus made his way towards the fireplace himself, this time to floo call the teachers present in the castle. They had complex wards to dismantle.

* * *

_24th October, 1648_

_I have neglected this journal for some time, but I've been able to find some time to spare today for an entry. The Statute has been gaining support among the noble houses, and the idea has even spread to the Continent, where it's being discussed in France and much of the Holy Roman Empire. Recently, there has been discussion of bringing the Statute to the agenda of the International Confederation. I doubt there is sufficient support for it to pass now, but I believe it is only a matter of time before other countries see the value in instituting the Statute worldwide._

_Procyon and I have been working diligently in drafting the organization of the soon-to-be-created Department of Mysteries. Support for the Ministry remains insufficient for the time being, as many lords are afraid of losing their privileges, status and wealth during the inevitable centralization, but a solitary Department enjoys broader support in court. I believe it won't be long before the Department begins operation._

_In our recent conversations, Procyon has proposed expanding the responsibilities of the Department further. He says that there are many secrets of magic that would be dangerous if in the wrong hands even within the magical community, and he intends for such research to be exclusively conducted by the Department. I am not so enthusiastic about such an encroachment on the freedom of individual witches and wizards, and given the present situation in court it will prove impossible to convince them to agree to such a centralizing dictum. Procyon insists that it is necessary to ensure the safety of the magical community, and that the value of centralization will be seen with time. This I agree with, though I grow weary of waiting while our fellow witches and wizards suffer at the hands of muggles. _

_I will try to write more in the future._

_15th May, 1650_

_This is the last entry in this journal._

_The Department has now been in operation for six months, and even with the limited funding currently available for its budget, they have achieved remarkable success in their research. If they are able to keep up this pace of progress and similar institutions are established in different countries, we think there are only a few decades before the Statute can be enacted worldwide without fear of future conflict with the muggles. _

_Procyon's dreams of further centralization of power and research still remain firmly outside the realm of possibility, however he is not disheartened. He believes it to be inevitable, and he is convinced that it will be achieved by our successors if not by us. _

_On occasion, I am surprised by the level of concern Procyon shows over this issue. He thinks that if we do not exercise caution, in the future the greatest threat to the magical community will be posed by fellow witches and wizards, not by muggles. He cites the recent emergence of prejudice against wizards and witches born of muggles as an example - he believes that if left unchecked this prejudice could sow the seeds of future conflict in the magical community. House Malfoy, who still hold onto their militant attitudes regarding muggles, has adopted this prejudice rapidly, and is now working to spread it. If Procyon is right, I fear the consequences should they succeed._

* * *

Lucius Malfoy, currently kneeling in front of the Dark Lord in the meeting hall of Malfoy Manor, was barely able to stop his tremors of fear from showing. Anger was rolling off the Dark Lord in waves, and that did not bode well for his life expectancy.

"Do you have _any idea _of the enormity of the mistake you've committed, Lucius?" The Dark Lord's voice was deceptively calm, in sharp contrast to the anger Lucius felt from him. "I entrusted that artifact to you for safekeeping, not so that you could place it within Hogwarts and engineer its destruction."

"My Lord -"

"_Crucio._"

Lucius fell to the ground in screams of agony as the Dark Lord's expression was torn between disappointment, anger and satisfaction. Lucius did not know how long he was under the curse, but by the time the Dark Lord relented and lifted the curse, his entire body was shaking and he had little control of his muscles.

"You should count yourself fortunate, Lucius, that a worse fate did not befall the artifact... it is, after all, why you're still alive."

Lucius did not know what fate for the artifact could be worse than its destruction, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He had no wish to anger the Dark Lord any further. Instead, he regained control of his muscles through sheer force of will and the experience of having been on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's Cruciatus curse on many occasions in the past. He was about to return to a kneeling position when he heard the Dark Lord's voice again.

"Rise, Lucius. You may prove yourself useful yet..." Lucius obliged, and silently looked at the Dark Lord, waiting for him to continue. "I have several tasks for you, Lucius. The first is to _discreetly _inquire about the circumstances surrounding the involvement of the Department of Mysteries in the establishment of defensive wards around the Hogwarts Express during Harold Minchum's term in office. Come to me with the information once you're finished, or if you encounter any... abnormalities in your inquiries."

Lucius could not keep his surprise from showing on his face. The request was simply too unexpected, and he could not contain his curiosity. "Of course, my Lord. May I ask... what you require this information for?"

Lucius thought the Dark Lord's eyes flashed crimson red for a brief moment before returning to a dark brown color. "All you need to know, Lucius, is that I have reason to believe you might discover some... irregularities if you look closely; irregularities that would be of interest to us." The Dark Lord paused for a moment. "You will also transfer a certain quantity of funds to an account in the French branch of Gringotts. I will provide the details at a later time. Make sure the transfer is untraceable."

This request was an usual one, it was a method that had been employed many times during the War to fund certain operations without the Ministry being aware of how the funds were acquired and who was supplying them. Lucius simply nodded. "It will be done, my Lord."

"Finally, Lucius, I require you to make preparations for the aftermath of what I have planned for Azkaban." Lucius did not know of any plans the Dark Lord may have made for Azkaban, and his confusion showed on his face. "Ah, I see I haven't informed you yet, Lucius. What you need to know is that this day next week, the creations of Ekrizdis will be no more. Take the necessary precautions for the expected fallout." With that ominous declaration, the Dark Lord turned away from him, walked over to the long dining table in the middle of the hall and seated himself in the chair overlooking the table. "You are dismissed, Lucius. Remember that I will not tolerate further failure from you."

Lucius swallowed his burning desire to ask the Dark Lord to elaborate on what _exactly _was going to happen in Azkaban a week from now, and bowed his head. When the Dark Lord was in a secretive mood, it never went well for him if he was too insistent with his questions. "I will not fail you, my Lord." With that, he turned around and left the meeting room, oblivious to the malicious smirk that was forming on the Dark Lord's face as he watched Lucius leave.


	11. Dawn of a New Era

**This chapter is somewhat on the short side, but I couldn't bring myself to add anything further at the end - you'll see why once you read the ending.**

* * *

It was close to midnight when Harry appeared in front of Riddle Manor silently and strode forward in quick steps towards the door of the mansion. Today was the day the Dark Lord had set for the retrieval of Rookwood from Azkaban, and he had insisted for a reason Harry did not know that Harry himself be a part of the retrieval. He said the operation would not be risky, so Harry was wondering what the Dark Lord's plan was for breaking out his followers from Azkaban.

In recent days, he had been contemplating what he had uncovered in his visit of the Potter family vault. He had the good fortune of coming across a journal which had once been in the possession of Ralston Potter, and had been able to glean some information from its pages, although perhaps not as much as he would've liked. He was especially intrigued by Procyon Black's perspective on what the Department's proper role should be. He had a great deal of foresight to have predicted the problems blood purity ideology would cause in the future, but the way he phrased his concerns made Harry think that he wasn't worried about the kind of small scale guerrilla warfare that characterized the period between 1970 and 1981 in Britain. The way he spoke of the threat to the magical community reminded Harry of muggles who expressed concern over the threat of nuclear weapons. Black had been worried that one day, new knowledge could push the boundaries of magic far enough that a small group of wizards would be able to unleash untold destruction upon the community. Though Ralston Potter expressed skepticism about the feasibility of such changes in the political climate of the time, Black's concerns resonated with Harry.

How far could Black have gone to address these concerns? He had read speeches and some texts written by heads of the Department before Radolphus Lestrange's term in office which expressed, as Black had intended, that the research of potentially dangerous knowledge which needed to be kept out of the wrong hands was within the Department's responsibilities. How do they go about avoiding the prospect of such knowledge being obtained by those who would misuse it? Harry did not think that merely making such things illegal was sufficient disincentive to protect against the threat described by Black. More extreme measures were needed.

A theory was forming in Harry's mind. Pieces of the puzzle were clicking into place, and he did not like the implications one bit. The most obvious way to resolve the problem was to remove either the will to obtain the knowledge or the will to use it from the minds of the population. The Hogwarts Express was a location that the vast majority of the population of magical Britain spent a significant amount of time in, and did so when they were still untrained and highly vulnerable to mental manipulation. If Harry had been given the task to come up with a permanent solution to Black's concerns right now, and he had the power to conceal what he had done, setting up mental manipulation and detection wards on the Hogwarts Express would be one of the best available methods. It was perfect - eerily so.

Given that perfection, how outlandish was the hypothesis that the use of the Express as the mode of transportation to Hogwarts had been instituted by the Gambol administration precisely for its use for this purpose? If Harry made this assumption, everything about the Express that did not make sense before fell into place. The students _needed _to spend some time on the train so the wards would be able to work well. Every year the train was out of use posed a risk that someone would be able to slip past the wards, which was a prospect that had to be avoided at all costs - even if said cost was to Confund a Minister in secret. If this was the case, however, how would the threat posed by immigrants or foreigners visiting the country would be dealt with? Harry did not know yet, but if one ignored this issue, the entire setup made sense.

He did not have enough evidence as of now, but for the first time he had a potential explanation of the situation. There was a conspiracy involving the Department of Mysteries whose goal was to address Procyon Rigel Black's concerns about dangerous knowledge. One of the ways in which they achieved this was through the use of mental manipulation wards on the Hogwarts Express. Harry did not yet know enough for the Gambol administration to be implicated in the conspiracy, since it was entirely possible the conspirators had noticed the convenient setup waiting to be exploited at a time when the Express was already in use and decided to take advantage of it, but if they _had _been involved then Harry could only shudder at the implications.

It was still possible that Harry was being paranoid and reading too much into the situation. He knew very well that the human mind was quite susceptible to seeing patterns where there were none - ironically, the perfect examples of this were constellations, which members of the Black family were traditionally named after. He needed firm evidence before he could draw any real conclusions, and he needed Rookwood for any chance at obtaining said firm evidence. The thought brought his meandering mind back to the present moment as he pushed the door open and walked through, then made his way to the hall of the manor.

It was quite a large place which could easily host fifty people simultaneously, and as Harry looked around him while walking further he thought it must've been quite ostentatious and richly decorated at some point in the past. Now, the few pieces of furniture within had been worn down by time, the branches of some trees outside the manor had cracked the outer walls and made their way inside at several points, and the paint on the walls of the grand room had faded. Harry inferred that the place had been abandoned for a long time before the Dark Lord returned to use it as a secret base of operations.

He was alert for any possible traps the Dark Lord may have laid for him in this place, and he had prepared some means of escape in case he would require their use, but he did not sense any traps even when he stretched out his senses as far as he could. He had also cast a variety of defensive charms on himself in case the Dark Lord attempted to catch him off guard with an unanticipated attack. He was wondering how best to proceed in case the Dark Lord summoned a horde of lethifolds in secret and unleashed them on him concurrent with a powerful attack of legilimency to serve as a distraction when the Dark Lord apparated twenty metres in front of him. He tensed, but showed no other physical reaction.

What he noticed surprised him - the Dark Lord had not come alone. Two unconscious women were floating at either side of him - one of them was a young child, most likely no older than eight years old, and the other was a woman who looked to be in her early thirties. Harry's eyes widened as he sensed their unusually low level of brain activity. They had most likely been forced to drink a few drops of the Draught of Living Death. Harry raised an eyebrow. When the Dark Lord did not respond to his silent query, he decided to vocalize his question.

"I was expecting you to come alone, my Lord. Who are these people who have been granted the honor of keeping you company?"

The Dark Lord's lips twitched upwards, which gave his snake-like face a decidedly threatening look. "Their identity is not of importance. Their presence is required, however, for the successful completion of our task."

Harry was not yet privy to the details of the Dark Lord's plan, and he could tell the Dark Lord had no inclination to share them at this time. He simply nodded. "When do we depart?"

The Dark Lord's smirk did not vanish, and Harry felt the man was amused. "Now. I would say that your defensive measures are more than adequate for the task."

Harry did not respond to the Dark Lord's blatant taunt - of course the Dark Lord knew why Harry had felt it necessary to take such extensive measures of protection, and he appeared to be finding a great deal of amusement in it. Harry effortlessly quashed the small amount of irritation that was rising up inside him. "Very well. I am ready when you are, my Lord."

The Dark Lord gave a stiff nod and grabbed the limp forms of the woman and the girl floating on his either side by their arms. Harry correctly interpreted the act as a sign of the Dark Lord preparing for apparition, and a moment later they both disapparated from the hall in silence.

* * *

They appeared near the east coastline of Britain in a clearing by the North Sea. In the distance, Harry could make out the form of the triangular shaped tower of the Azkaban prison. Much of the perimeter of Azkaban island was warded against all forms of magical entry and departure, and the only point of entry available to most wizards was a small port situated about a dozen kilometres to the south of their location. At this distance, they would not be noticed by any Ministry employees stationed at the port. They had agreed on this location, along with one other, on the day of the Dark Lord's return before Harry left, and that was the extent of Harry's knowledge of the Dark Lord's plan. He did not know what they would do now, though he suspected the people the Dark Lord brought along with him would be involved.

The Dark Lord was gazing intently at the island, and did not turn to look at Harry as he spoke. "Now, we wait."

Harry inclined his head in acknowledgement. He did not think the Dark Lord would answer any questions about his plan - from what Harry had learned of his character in his brief time with him, the Dark Lord only provided others with the bare minimum of information necessary for his plans to work as intended. He mirrored the Dark Lord's gaze on the island, and the two stood together in silence for five minutes before Harry noticed a man approaching their position. Based on the Dark Lord's lack of reaction, he surmised this was expected. He pulled up his hood and cast a quick voice altering charm on himself so that he would not be recognized by the man, but did not take any other action to acknowledge his impending arrival. After another five minutes of waiting, the man reached their position. Harry noticed that the man, who appeared to be a Ministry official based on his attire, was under the Dark Lord's Imperius curse.

The Dark Lord turned towards the man and sent out a silent command through the Imperius. The man approached and took the items the Dark Lord held out for him - two wands and two folded pieces of parchment - and placed them inside his robes before moving back to stand at a short distance from them. When the man was in position, the Dark Lord snapped the Imperius curse and the man regained control over his actions. To Harry's surprise, the first thing he did was fall to his knees and start sobbing uncontrollably.

"Please, please don't hurt them... I'll do anything... please..."

Harry blinked. Based on the man's reaction, the two people they brought here with them were related to this man - most likely his wife and daughter. He did not have time to think further before the Dark Lord spoke calmly, his voice cold and menacing. "If you don't cease this obnoxious display, Mr Adams, I trust you know what will happen?"

The man froze upon hearing the Dark Lord's veiled threat. He visibly struggled to regain control of himself before standing up, and Harry did not even need to use Legilimency to see that the man was completely broken - just looking at his eyes were enough. The man was clearly too scared to say anything that might incur the wrath of the Dark Lord, and so he kept silent. The Dark Lord spoke once more.

"You know what you have to do, Mr Adams. My instructions were clear, as are the consequences of your failure. _Do not disappoint me._"

The man gave a stiff nod, and apparated away with a crack. The moment the man disappeared, the Dark Lord grabbed the two limp forms once more, and only said "Second apparition point." before disapparating. Harry quickly followed.

They appeared about twenty-five kilometres north of their previous location, once again at a place by the coastline and with a clear view of Azkaban island. Harry understood that the Dark Lord had set up two apparition points to avoid the possibility of their location leaking through the man in some manner. The Dark Lord said nothing, and the pair once again turned towards the sea, their gaze firmly upon the island prison in the distance. They waited for fifteen minutes before Harry noticed a boat approaching the island. He suspected the man he had just met, Mr Adams, was currently on that boat. Harry now understood why they needed the woman and the girl the Dark Lord had brought with them - Azkaban inspectors would be checked for signs of the Imperius and other forms of mind-magic before being granted entrance to the island. The man could not get on the boat if he was under the Imperius, so instead the Dark Lord had threatened him with his wife and children to get him to comply.

When the boat was about ten minutes' distance from the island, Harry noticed the Dark Lord take out his wand and begin slowly and carefully dismantling the anti-apparition wards around the island. He could hear the wards singing through the Shroud, their unique constitution promising a fate worse than splinching to any who would dare to apparate within their boundaries, and he could hear their song gradually fade as the Dark Lord masterfully nudged the wards to silence. Harry felt his respect for the man shoot up at the display - he made it look so easy, so effortless... and yet Harry knew the sorcerers who were currently alive and would be capable of such a feat could be counted by the fingers of his hands. Once the wards had faded completely, which happened concurrently with the arrival of the boat on the island, the Dark Lord lowered his wand and stood still once more. Any sorcerers capable of apparating wandlessly on the island could now apparate out, but apparition required a great deal of precision and Harry doubted any on the island could accomplish the feat safely, especially when their minds had been muddled by constant exposure to dementors for years.

Not knowing what was coming filled Harry with a sense of anticipation like he had never felt before. His perception of time was warped as every moment seemed to linger for longer than it should. After twenty minutes, which had felt to Harry more like two hours, the Dark Lord took out two vials of a pale blue looking potion from inside his robes and placed them on a roughly cube-shaped stone near them before returning to his previous position. Harry could guess from the circumstances and the color of the potion that it was a specialized one designed to help with the after-effects of exposure to the Nightmare Curse - or, incidentally, exposure to dementors. Two vials, two wands, two pieces of parchment... it appeared that they were expecting two arrivals from the island soon.

A few moments after Harry had that thought, Harry heard two cracking sounds behind him and felt the presence of two new arrivals. He could tell they were nothing like the rat-faced man he had encountered during his first visit to the Dark Lord - these were capable sorcerers, although one of them showed signs of spiritual corruption. Harry did not know if this was due to careless practice of chaotic magic or due to extended exposure to dementors - both of them could have this effect. Harry and the Dark Lord turned around at the same time to see Augustus Rookwood and Bellatrix Lestrange standing before them. Lestrange and Rookwood both kneeled before the Dark Lord despite both of them showing intense symptoms of over-exposure to the effects of dementors.

"My Lord, you came... you came for us, as I knew you would..." Lestrange sounded hysterical, and Harry wondered if this was how she usually acted before the Dark Lord or if it had been induced by her stay in Azkaban. He suspected the truth was a mixture of both. Rookwood, in contrast, remained silent.

"I have come for my most loyal, Bellatrix." The Dark Lord's voice was surprisingly gentle and Harry was startled for a brief moment, but he did not let it show. The Dark Lord gestured towards the vials. "Drink the potions. They will help."

"Yes, my Lord." The reply from Rookwood and Lestrange was simultaneous, and Harry watched along with the Dark Lord as the pair ingested the potions the Dark Lord had brought for them. Once they were done, the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Augustus, Bellatrix. You will not share what you have seen in the past hour, and what you will see until we depart this place, with anyone not currently present. Do you understand?"

Once again, the response was simultaneous. "Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord turned to look at Harry. "There is no need for disguises now, Potter." The Dark Lord's mention of his name visibly startled both Death Eaters present, and their shock was evident from the expressions on their faces, but they said nothing. Harry wandlessly ended the voice altering spell he had cast on himself and removed his hood. The Dark Lord broke the silence once more. "You are wondering why I asked for your company in this journey, are you not, Potter?"

The Dark Lord was right - nothing the Dark Lord had done so far required Harry to be present or was expedited by his presence in any way. It did not make sense to Harry that the Dark Lord had insisted Harry be present during this rescue operation. Harry nodded. "Indeed, my Lord."

He could tell his manner of addressing the Dark Lord had further shocked the pair of Death Eaters, but he did not care to explain the traditions of chaotic sorcerers to them at this time. Once again, they remained silent, though Harry could see the burning curiosity in both of their eyes.

The Dark Lord answered his own question. "I asked for your presence, Potter, so you could witness the dawn of a new era with your own eyes."

Harry suddenly realized that the Dark Lord was about to do something momentous, so he focused on every fine detail, every small movement in the environment. The Dark Lord turned to face the island they had been gazing at for so long, and Harry copied the movement. The Dark Lord raised his wand slowly, a foreboding smirk on his face, as if relishing the moment for as long as it lasted. Finally, once his wand arm was extended parallel to the ground below, he gave the wand a silent, tiny flick.

A moment later, the island in the distance was enveloped in a blinding orange light which covered most of Harry's field of vision briefly before receding to the vicinity of the island once again. Harry watched in shock as a mushroom cloud slowly appeared where Azkaban island was - no, _used to be_. Next to him, the Dark Lord eyed the massive explosion intently, his smirk only becoming more vicious. The Death Eaters behind Harry and the Dark Lord were not doing any better in containing their shock, but Harry was only focused on the picture in front of him at that moment. After a few seconds spent in utter befuddlement, Harry regained his senses and made a quick calculation. The epicenter of the explosion was about twenty kilometres off the coast, which meant they had less than fifty seconds before they were hit by the pressure wave resulting from the blast. He drew his wand and conjured a transparent, dome shaped shield in front of them, not daring to disrupt the view.

"As I said, Potter..." the Dark Lord said. "The dawn of a new era."

Harry could only nod in a daze.


	12. The Department of Mysteries

Harry appeared silently at the designated apparition point inside the Ministry Atrium and made his way through the crowd of people. He was still attracting some attention from the onlookers and he could hear them whispering about him, but he paid it no mind. He had an appointment to be on time for.

It had been two weeks since the Dark Lord reduced Azkaban island to dust using a fission bomb he'd smuggled inside with the aid of Mr Adams, whose fate remained unknown to Harry. The resulting fallout had been intense, and after some careful thinking and observation of the unfolding events Harry had succeeded in making sense of the Dark Lord's seemingly irrational decision to murder his own followers in a nuclear explosion.

It had been revealed by the Daily Prophet a few days after the incident that a muggle contraption had been employed in the attack against Azkaban, which had created a climate of fear and uncertainty. Theories ranging from an impending attack from the muggle governments to a conspiracy involving some prominent pureblood families who had organized the attack to seize the properties of those who had been incarcerated were being peddled by speculators - of course, nobody could guess that the bombing was the work of the Dark Lord. In one blow, the Dark Lord had shown the reactionary pureblood elites the power of muggle technology, had pushed the general public into a state of fear in which they would be willing to support extreme measures of protection, and had sown the seeds of distrust and conflict between the wealthy families of Britain. Demands for this muggle contraption to be researched further were already being put forward in the Wizengamot and blame had fallen on the Fudge administration because of its inability to prevent the attack. The political situation was one of utter chaos. Today, Harry had read from the Prophet that the Malfoy patriarch had come under suspicion for possible involvement in the attack, and he surmised that the Dark Lord may be planning to use him as a scapegoat.

Unfortunately for Harry, the aftermath of his adventure with the Dark Lord on the east coastline of Britain did not go as well as he'd expected. He had promptly questioned Rookwood once they had returned to Riddle Manor, but the man had no knowledge of the warding of the Express beyond the fact that it had been done. He was also not impressed by what he had been told of the Department's research projects by Rookwood - most of them appeared primitive and rather uninteresting. Rookwood had also told him that the Department had a cellular structure in which Unspeakables in one cell would be unaware of the identities of those in others, and mostly interacted with only those in their own cell. He had acquired the names of those who had been in Rookwood's cell, but given Rookwood's own lack of knowledge on the subject of the Express, they probably had none of the information that he sought either.

Harry had been at a loss as to how to proceed until he had, rather unexpectedly, been contacted directly by the Department of Mysteries through the owl post he had set up in Diagon Alley. The Head of the Department, whose name was not mentioned in the letter he received, invited him to a private meeting in his office - based on the contents of the letter, the Department had been impressed with his performance in the N.E.W.T. tests, and were interested in recruiting him as an Unspeakable. The letter gave no details as to the nature of the work he would be doing, which he assumed would be discussed at the meeting.

He had been torn about which course of action to take - on one hand, it was the perfect opportunity to gather more information; on the other hand it could very well be a trap designed to lure him in. In the end, he had decided to see where the offer would lead. Much of what he'd learned from Rookwood was incongruous with what he knew about the history of the Department. He did not know what, but he felt there was more to the situation than he could currently see. Hoping that he would not come to regret his decision within the next hour, Harry got on the elevator, which was occupied by three other people that Harry paid no attention to, and pressed the button for the floor of the Department of Mysteries. He got off the elevator and swiftly made his way to the room in which the meeting was to take place.

When he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the ceiling which looked like a clear night sky would with no obscuring light pollution, even though it was 10 AM in the morning. It was similar to the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. He looked around him to see that there were many other doors on the dark blue walls of the room, which gave an impression of continuity from the night sky on the ceiling. The floor was flat and dark grey, and the room was barren other than a large desk with two rather ostentatious armchairs on either side of it. A middle-aged man with dark hair and startlingly blue eyes was seated on the armchair opposite to Harry, and Harry belatedly noticed that he was being observed intently by the man. After a quiet moment in which the pair gazed at one another, the man broke the silence.

"Mr Potter, I am glad you could make it. Please, have a seat."

Cautiously and on alert against any possible attack, Harry made his way to the armchair opposite the man and sat down, not breaking eye contact with the man. Harry knew the man had noticed his wariness, but he did not comment on it. After some further time spent in silence, the man spoke once again. "I take it that your presence here means you're interested in our offer?"

"Yes." Harry did not know any of the details, but if the question was whether he was _interested_ or not, then his answer was honest.

"Very well. As perhaps you already suspect, Mr Potter, the process of joining the Department is a rather unusual one," the man said. "More specifically, it involves a test of intent."

Harry blinked. Given the unusual level of secrecy surrounding everything related to the Department, it was not a surprise that there would be such a measure in place. However, _what _did the test look for in a candidate? Regardless, tests of intent were a harmless form of mind-magic, so Harry was not terribly concerned about having to undertake one.

"I understand. I have no problems with undergoing such a test." Harry paused. "May I ask what the purpose of the test is?"

The man shook his head. "I can't reveal any specific information about the Department and its operations until you've passed the test of intent. I hope you understand."

Harry deflated somewhat, but did not let it show. He nodded. "I do." After a moment spent adjusting his mental and spiritual protections so that an intent probe could get through without difficulty, Harry continued. "I'm ready."

The man gave a curt nod and pressed a small button on the desk. Immediately, Harry felt intent wards spring up to life all around the room and start probing him for signs of something Harry did not know. In a moment, however, something unexpected happened.

Harry was filled with a kind of warmth and a feeling of _rightness _that he had not felt since he had first bonded with his wand in Ollivander's more than three years ago. He momentarily lost himself in the feeling, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He did not notice the man's eyes widen slightly at his reaction, nor did he spot the smile that crossed the man's face afterwards. The experience lasted for five seconds before the probe retreated and the song of the wards died down around him. Harry blinked, somewhat startled by the loss of the unanticipated warm feeling, before he remembered where he was. He sat upright and his eyes snapped open to look at the man sitting opposite him once again.

The man was smiling, and his voice had a tone expressing satisfaction. "You pass."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and leaned back in the chair once again. He had many questions he wanted to ask, but he saw the man was about to begin an explanation, so he held his tongue. Indeed, a moment later the man started speaking.

"The intent test you just passed is one which looks for any traits or tendencies in a person which would make them untrustworthy of learning the secrets held by the Department. Chief among them is the possibility of the person doing harm to the magical community by either exploiting the knowledge themselves or revealing it to those who would misuse it."

Harry remembered that phrase, _those who would misuse it..._ it was the same phrase used by Cottismore Croyne on many occasions. He had some questions about its exact meaning, however. "Harm and misuse are subjective, they must be judged relative to a choice of order relation between different outcomes. Which choice does the intent test use?"

The man's face showed his approval. "Judging by your unusual compatibility with the intent wards, you already know the answer to your question."

Harry blinked. _Could it be..? _

The man continued. "The primary function of the Department of Mysteries is to carry out research in fields where the knowledge revealed and understanding gained through said research has the potential to do great harm to the magical community. We use this knowledge to produce practical inventions which are used by broad sections of the community, and we take many measures to ensure that the inventions cannot be used for the purposes I described earlier. A common one is the enforcement of a monopoly on the production and sales of certain goods - not exactly an efficient option, but far safer than the alternatives."

Harry eyed the man intently. "Can you give any specific examples of such inventions?"

"Of course. Wands are a good example, I believe - one that is incidentally quite close to my own area of expertise, which is spellcrafting." Upon hearing that, Harry began listening to the man with rapt attention. The man's gaze flicked to his wand for a brief moment before focusing on him again. "You're no stranger to the techniques involved in the production of wands, I see. Most unusual, indeed; but that's the reason why we felt the need to invite you, after all."

Harry was beginning to feel uneasy about this. "What do you mean?"

"We've been watching you, Mr Potter, almost since you've arrived at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time. We intended to extend you an offer to join the Department for a long time, though your unforeseen disappearance from the castle had disappointed us significantly in that regard. When you reappeared with the exceptional talent you possess now, we observed you to ascertain your intentions. When we were led to believe that they were compatible with our own, as confirmed by the intent wards, we decided to reach out to you."

Harry frowned. "You sound as if you don't know the reason behind my disappearance."

The man's expression betrayed his confusion. "We had no involvement in your disappearance that we know of, Mr Potter. What are you implying?"

"You mean to tell me that you didn't know about the mental manipulation wards on the Hogwarts Express?" Harry blurted out incredulously.

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "_You _mean to tell me that there were such wards on the Hogwarts Express? We certainly had no knowledge of any such thing, Mr Potter, I assure you."

"How is that possible? The Department of Mysteries was specifically asked by Minister Minchum during the War to place defensive wards on the Express. How didn't the ward-weaver feel their presence?" Harry said in his confusion. The Unspeakables not detecting the wards on the Express was completely out of his calculations. If that were the case, Harry really had no reason to believe the Department had been involved in the conspiracy.

The man hummed. "I am afraid I can't answer that question beyond saying that I received no such report. I was not the one who placed the wards on the Hogwarts Express; in fact, I haven't been anywhere near the Express since I finished my schooling many decades ago. You will have to talk to Ming, if I recall correctly she was the one who weaved the wards on the Express during the War." The man appeared strangely unconcerned with the whole affair.

Even in his befuddled state, Harry noticed the Chinese name the man had mentioned casually in his statement. He wanted to ask about it, but decided against it lest he appear as if he held the Chinese in low regard, which was the opposite of the truth. He decided to let this matter drop until he could meet this mysterious Ming person - he had other questions he wanted to ask. He decided on the one that first came to mind, which he hoped the man would be able to answer given his declared field of expertise. "Do you know why it is that the common base transfiguration spells are unable to convert other metals into gold?"

"I am afraid we did not develop those spells, Mr Potter," the man said, "though I have some guesses - the same as yours, I would imagine. It is certainly the kind of precaution we've taken in other areas." He paused. "Those spells are very old, they date back at least two thousand years. How they were developed at that time is a mystery even to us."

Harry nodded. "Can you tell me more about the kind of research that is done in the Department?"

"Certainly. I can start with Ming Xue, since I've already mentioned her. She is rather famous for her breakthroughs in soul magic and locally stable states of oscillation, which is the true nature of wards. From memory, one discovery of her which was quite astonishing was her success in changing the mechanism of apparition to exploit the uncertainty principle in 1977. She used it to apparate through the most advanced anti-apparition wards known at the time."

"She managed to produce a working quantum theory of the Shroud?!" Harry blurted out in excitement. There was no other way in which what the man was saying would be possible, and it was something Harry had tried and failed to do in the past. He was overcome by the sudden urge to locate Ming Xue and interrogate her until she explained whatever theory she came up with in detail. He could barely contain his curiosity.

The man was clearly confused. "The Shroud?"

Harry blinked, and belatedly realized that he shouldn't expect people he'd never met to know terms he had made up on his own. "The fields through which magic is utilized."

"Ah." The man's expression showed his realization. "We have been less inventive with our terminology, I'm afraid. The fields were named 'magic fields' or 'magical fields' when they were first discovered by us, and the name has stuck. Perhaps a change in terminology is in order, however. I've never been a supporter of describing phenomena that we are able to understand as 'magical', after all."

Harry agreed with that sentiment, so he nodded. He was still trying to come to terms with the realization that there was a group of people who had so much knowledge which was kept from the general public. He had so many questions about the entire setup that he did not know the order in which he should ask them. At that moment, he remembered something that he had forgotten, and he frowned in thought as he tried to resolve the inconsistency. When he failed, he decided to simply ask the question, uncaring of what the man might deduce of his involvement with the Dark Lord based on it. Somehow, he didn't feel that the man would mind.

"Why is it that Augustus Rookwood does not know any of what you've revealed to me so far?"

The man blinked, his expression morphing quickly from confusion, to surprise, to dawning realization. He spoke a single sentence, and Harry shuddered at the veiled implications. "Mr Rookwood failed the test of intent."

The room fell into silence as Harry fully grasped what must've happened between Rookwood and the Department of Mysteries, and as the man understood how Harry had come to know the extent of Rookwood's knowledge. The silence lingered for some time, but eventually the man spoke. "Your actions outside of the Department are no concern of ours, Mr Potter, so long as you've been approved by the intent wards within this room. There is much that is said and done within the Department that is kept secret... your unusual means of coming by the information you've mentioned will be one of them from now on." The man paused. "You have no need to hide such information from others while you're here. Anyone who would reveal the secrets of those within the Department to those outside of it would not make it past the wards."

"You're not concerned about the Dark Lord?" Harry had trouble concealing his surprise.

The man let out a breath. "Mr Potter, I believe you're operating under a misconception of how the Department functions. It is a place to share knowledge and conduct research, and its members are only bound by their commitment to that. The Department can't be concerned about anything, since there _is _no Department. There are only its members, who may or may not act in an independent capacity regarding any issue they care about, so long as they are in compliance with the responsibility they've accepted by becoming a member." The man paused. "I am officially Head of the Department, but in reality I merely act as a speaker for all of its members. I do not have the authority to make decisions of any kind on my own - decisions such as inviting you here, for instance."

Harry was very confused about this unexpectedly anarchical structure, but there was another question he needed to ask. "I see... You said earlier that the Department tries to prevent dangerous knowledge from being revealed to the public so it would not be misused. How do you handle a situation in which a person outside the Department makes a discovery that is classified as such?"

"If possible, we try to persuade them to continue their research within the Department. If not..." The man left the sentence hanging at that point, and Harry understood that whatever methods the Department relied on in this case were not pleasant.

"Since when does the Department act so... actively regarding this matter?"

"To the extent of my knowledge, this had been planned since its inception, although it only became reality following the establishment of the Ministry of Magic. Before then, the political circumstances were unfavourable for the adoption of such extreme measures."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Who knows about these... extreme measures?" Harry felt that this phrase was too soft of a euphemism for the severity of what it was being used to refer to, but he saw no harm in using it for now.

"At the moment, once again to the extent of my knowledge, only members of an international network which the British Department of Mysteries is a part of are aware, though I believe you had your own suspicions regarding the matter. Documents which may pose danger of exposure were classified following the Ministry's founding. Regardless, in one instance, some of the Department's... unsavoury activities were almost exposed as a result of the actions of the Ministry." The man paused. "What do you know about Artemisia Lufkin's term in office?"

Harry blinked. "Her administration was quite popular following the debacle of Unctuous Osbert, but she proved to be incapable of shaking off the influence of the Wizengamot, which was still controlled by supporters of the blood purity cause. She established the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but proved unable to do much else in the way of substantive changes of policy." He paused before the part he thought was important in this context. "She came into conflict with the Department of Mysteries generally, and Grand Sorcerer Croyne specifically, in the first three years of her term in office. The spat ended with Croyne's resignation, but in 1828 she was tried and convicted for her misdemeanor and abuse of authority during this time period."

The man smiled, the expression having a vague undertone of menace to it. "That's correct. The reason for the conflict was that Minister Lufkin proved to be too... inquisitive regarding matters which were not her responsibility or legally within her authority to inquire into. She never acquired substantive proof, but what she came to suspect drove her into a self-righteous and unconstitutional campaign against us. The unconstitutionality of her actions was ignored by the Wizengamot at the time due to the Department's prior conflicts with supporters of the blood purity cause. In the end, the situation became untenable enough that Grand Sorcerer Croyne was compelled to resign until sufficient international pressure could be placed on Britain to change its election laws and democratize the Wizengamot. The Gambol administration and the 1828 trials were the result." The man paused. "Artemisia Lufkin's public humiliation, even though it was after her demise, proved to be a rather strong incentive for future Ministers to follow the amendments to the constitution guaranteeing the independence of the Department of Mysteries from the Ministry. We've not had a similar problem since, if you don't count Minister Lestrange's laughable attempts."

Harry felt that at this point a normal person would be crying out in indignation at the immorality of this huge conspiracy, but he did not feel anything such. If there was indeed such a conspiracy and events like the Global Wizarding War of 1926-1945 and the civil unrest in Britain during 1970-1981 still happened, how much more chaos would there have been in the global magical community in the absence of their stabilizing influence? Of course, he should not feel surprised, given that the intent wards had already given their approval of his character, which meant that he would agree with any measures taken by the Department so long as they were in service of the founding goals of the organization.

He knew his answer to the Department's request. "I understand." He paused. "What do I need to do to accept your offer?"

The man tilted his head slightly and smiled. "You have accepted our offer the moment you gained the approval of the intent wards, Mr Potter. Do you think we would reveal our secrets to one who would not join us?"

Harry should've known, of course. There was a moment of silence before the man seemed to recall what he'd said about the Express. "I must say, Mr Potter, I find myself curious about what you've told me regarding the Hogwarts Express. I believe it would also make for a convenient excuse for you to meet Ming." The man stood up. "I will go and see if she's available at the moment while you wait." With that, he moved in front of one of the doors, touched the handle and vanished. For a few moments Harry stared at the place the man had just been standing in, and then he leaned back in his chair and resigned himself to waiting for Ming Xue.

* * *

**Warning: the following passage is heavy in theoretical content.**

* * *

He did not have to wait long, it turned out, since about three minutes later a woman dressed in white robes appeared in front of the door through which the man had left. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, though Harry knew this was impossible given that she had been a member of the Department in 1977. He suspected the woman had made use of some methods which slowed down the natural aging process of her body. She had long and sleek hair and a pale complexion. She walked gracefully towards the chair opposite Harry and sat down before speaking.

"Sherwin said you had questions for me, Harry. What is the matter?"

Harry was startled by this show of familiarity, but did not let it show. Based on his limited sample size of two people, he had formed a theory that members of the Department (he did not even know if they should be called "Unspeakables" anymore) referred to each other by their first names, and he did not intend to appear daft by ignoring this custom. He restrained his burning desire to ask her about her exotic method of bypassing anti-apparition wards for now.

"When I boarded the Hogwarts Express in 1991, there were quite sophisticated mental manipulation wards on the train. How is it possible that you did not identify them when you were placing defensive wards on the train in 1976?"

Ming appeared confused. "Well, I did not know to check for them, of course."

Harry did not know how that was possible. "How did you place your defensive wards so that they did not interfere with the wards already placed on the train, then?" Harry had a rather ugly thought at that moment. "Did you just place them on some low coupling layer to avoid the existing wards in higher coupling?"

Ming's expression reflected such intense disgust that Harry was taken aback. Before she could open her mouth to give a scathing response, Harry hurriedly cut in. "I apologize, that was disrespectful. I shouldn't have said that." It had not been a minute yet and he had already managed to insult Ming.

Thankfully, she seemed to accept the apology because her expression of disgust turned into one of amusement. "Your apology is accepted, Harry." It was obvious to Harry that she was thinking about something, judging from her furrowed brows. After about ten seconds, she arrived at a conclusion, or so Harry thought.

"I think I know what's confusing you, Harry. Tell me, which region of frequency space are defensive wards typically placed?"

"Low." Harry answered without hesitation.

"What about mental manipulation wards?"

"High." Harry did not know where this was going, since if you were going to excite a ward within some layer of the Shroud, your senses would be localized by space, not by frequency. Instead of providing an explanation, however, Ming took out her wand and held it in front of her, slanting it towards Harry. The wand's tip began to vibrate and Harry was able to make out a quiet ringing noise as a consequence. She spoke once more.

"What's the frequency domain decomposition of this sound wave, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes and focused his senses on the tip of the wand. After a moment, he opened them and looked at Ming. "Only a single mode of vibration at 400 Hz."

"Correct." With that, the vibration pattern changed, and Harry could hear a change in the tone he was hearing. "What about now?"

Once more, Harry focused his attention on the wand and on the air molecules crashing into each other around him. The sound was richer this time, and sounded pleasant to his ears. After a few seconds, he answered. "Two modes of equal amplitude at 200 Hz and 300 Hz."

"Correct again." The vibration pattern changed once more, but this time the sound that accompanied it was ugly and grated on his ears. Ming spoke once again. "Now?"

Harry tried to focus, but the high frequency part of the sound was jumbled up and had no harmony whatsoever. He could not make out the frequencies present or their proportions. The low frequency part, however, was clear. "There is an isolated mode at 100 Hz, but I can't tell anything about the higher frequency components. It's entirely jumbled with no harmony."

Ming ceased the vibration and looked at Harry silently, waiting for him to reach a realization on his own. After some moments of contemplation, Harry's eyes lit up. "The high frequency domain was polluted, but the low frequency domain was open... but why? Unless..." Harry was having another epiphany when Ming interrupted his train of thought.

"The best way to hide a ward in plain sight, Harry, is to place it inside an opening in an otherwise polluted frequency region. That way, the visitor will be unable to notice the characteristic frequency proportions unless they _specifically _search for it, which I had no reason to do. _You _were able to detect them because the wards flared up in amplitude when they reacted to your presence."

Harry was kicking himself for not having this realization before. It hadn't even occured to him to use such a technique to hide the wards; he had presumed that they were only hidden by low amplitude. He was sure he would not forget it in his life now.

"Thank you, Ming. I understand what I missed now."

Ming smiled warmly. "No problem, Harry. Do you have any other questions for me?"

Of course, Harry had a lot of questions for Ming. "As a matter of fact, I do. About your method of apparating through common anti-apparition wards..."


	13. Ming Xue

It had been four hours by the time Harry felt he understood enough of Ming's theory for the moment. He would think on the details in his own time before asking Ming about it again, so he steered the conversation back towards the original subject, that of the Hogwarts Express. While the fact that Ming did not detect the presence of the wards was enough to discredit his initial hypothesis, he was still having suspicions about the connection between the Express, Ottaline Gambol and Cottismore Croyne.

"What do you think could be the motive of the conspirators?" he asked Ming.

Ming seemed contemplative. "I don't know, Harry. To be honest, I did not know anything about the history of the Hogwarts Express before this conversation. I believe you're right to be suspicious, but all I can say based on what I've heard so far is that you have powerful enemies," she said. "What I know of your actions suggest to me that you're a political extremist, so I don't find it surprising that you would have some."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your choice of phrasing is... curious, Ming. Whatever led you to the conclusion that I may be a political extremist?"

"One learns to recognize the signs when you've as much experience as I do with such matters, Harry, I assure you. The suspicious circumstances in which you've come to acquire information about Mr Rookwood's involvement with us are quite telling as well."

"I suppose you're right," said Harry, letting out a breath. He continued in a challenging tone. "Do you disapprove?"

Ming chuckled. "You'll find that there are many among us who are of a similar disposition, Harry. I don't know what exactly you intend to accomplish, so it is not possible for me to disapprove of whatever designs you might have."

"You're not curious?"

"I might be. However, some consider inquiring about such things in this environment to be indecent. It is your decision whether you choose to share such things with anyone here."

Harry himself was quite curious about Ming's personal circumstances, especially after the casual comment she made about her "experiences". He decided to risk making the offer. "I wouldn't be averse to sharing with you - so long as you're willing to reciprocate the sentiment, of course."

Ming raised an eyebrow challengingly. "You're quite bold to make such an offer, Harry. Aren't you concerned that I might think such audacity to be unseemly?"

"My curiosity is greater than my aversion to the risk of such a consequence," Harry said, shrugging.

Ming appeared to think over the offer for some moments before responding. "I am willing to present you with a memory, Harry, if you're willing to reveal a memory of... comparable significance."

Harry was intrigued by this offer. "I accept." He paused. "As the one who made the initial offer, I assume you intend for me to provide a memory first?"

Ming smiled, but said nothing. Her expression was enough of an affirmation for Harry. "Very well." Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory he wanted to show her, and a moment later Ming was experiencing the memory as if she had been in Harry's place.

When Ming's consciousness emerged from her experience of the memory, Harry noticed her thoughtful expression. She looked straight at him.

"No wonder the intent wards were so compatible with you... if you're successful in achieving what you plan to do, then I can only imagine the possibilities."

"You don't think it is... inappropriate?"

Ming chuckled while shaking her head. "I don't, however there will be many who do, even in our community. You should be careful divulging such plans to others. With designs like that, I hardly think it's surprising you would find yourself targeted by unseen enemies, though I wonder now about their identities..."

Harry had been suspicious of this, but if Ming thought similarly then he knew he was not simply being paranoid. "You think the conspirators are opposed to what I intend to do?"

"It is the most plausible explanation, Harry. I doubt anyone who took the Hogwarts Express since 1830 would've had any ambitions that were remotely similar to yours. It is not a stretch to assume that the unusual hostility of the wards was a reaction to your unusual... perspective."

Harry had never thought he would be able to evade the threat posed by this conspiracy, but if Ming was correct then conflict with them was inevitable. It was a sobering reminder, and yet the only lead Harry currently had was the peculiarity of the circumstances surrounding the Gambol administration's rise to power and their subsequent actions. For all he knew, the wards could've simply been placed by some interloper on the Express many years later, in which case he truly knew nothing about whoever might've been involved, and that put him at a significant disadvantage in this shadow conflict.

Ming interrupted his thoughts. "I believe it's my turn now." With that strangely eager declaration, she closed her eyes and frowned in concentration. Harry felt a probe asking for permission a moment later, and he allowed Ming to project the memory to his consciousness. The room faded from his senses, and soon he found himself in an entirely different location.

* * *

_Harry was sitting on a chair around a large, round wooden table in a lavishly decorated hall, trying desperately to tune out the ramblings of the latest commander bringing news of defeat from the war front._

_"...we lost over five hundred men. The enemy retreated and pulled us into a prepared pincer movement. They had the high ground, had anti-apparition wards up, only half of our men could make it out."_

_Harry couldn't help the sneer forming on his face. What kind of moron would lead their troops through a narrow valley when they did not know if the hills on either side had been occupied by hostile forces? The kind of moron that this commander was, apparently. It was not his place to show any reaction, though, so he remained silent. The meeting soon devolved into a shouting match between some of the commanders, military advisors, logistics experts and noblemen; all outraged about the fact that so many men had been lost to such an elementary ambush._

_"Silence!" The voice of the Chancellor rang clear in the meeting hall, authoritative and commanding respect. The chorus of sound died down in response, and the Chancellor continued in an accusing tone. "I think the council has a right to be displeased with your lack of sense, Lieutenant General Xuan. What do you have to say for yourself?"_

_The commander flinched at the tone. "Chancellor, I couldn't have known -"_

_The Chancellor raised his hand to cut him off, his face showing his disappointment. "It is your duty to take precautions against such things, Lieutenant General." There was a pause. "I have tolerated your failures for a long time, but there are limits to my patience, and losing five hundred good men with no results to show for it is beyond those limits. You've done the dynasty a great dishonor, and you're hereby discharged from your duties on the authority of the Emperor."_

_Nobody dared to make a noise following that proclamation. It was justified given the level of incompetence, but Harry knew the Chancellor was risking upsetting the delicate political balance present in court by such an action. He was truly glad that he was not in the Chancellor's position - the endless variables that the man had to contend with when making his every decision would've surely driven him insane. Sure enough, the silence in the hall was broken by one of the aristocrats sitting somewhere opposite Harry._

_"Lieutenant General Xuan has served the dynasty faithfully for decades! You can't possibly dismiss him for something so trivial!"_

_Fury bubbled up inside Harry in response to this comment, and he viciously slammed his hand on the table. He turned his gaze on the worthless human being, also known as Governor Liang, who had spoken up in defense of the idiot commander. The hall once again fell silent, and the gazes of all who were present turned on Harry. He spoke, his voice thundering over the entire hall._

_"How dare you describe the meaningless and unnecessary slaughter of five hundred of our soldiers as 'trivial', Liang?! They didn't enlist in the army and lay down their lives so you would sit here and insult their sacrifice!" Harry paused, trying to rein in his rage at this excuse for a government official. When he continued to speak, his voice was icy and laced with venom. "It is not your place to question the authority of the Emperor, exercised through his chosen representative, Governor Liang. You would do well to remember that - unless, of course, you harbor thoughts of... rebellion against the dynasty." Harry wasn't sure if the communists would accept Liang's defection even if he did have such designs - the man was everything they despised, and in this instance Harry had to concur with their judgement of character. _

_There was a collective gasp at Harry's bold accusation, and Liang's skin turned extremely pale. Harry did not care about the potential repercussions of his outburst right now, all he wanted to do was make an example of this man whose hunger for power was greater than his fear of execution. They would never win this war with so much internal conflict wearing them down from within. The silence that descended on the hall was broken by the Chancellor._

_"My decision stands, Governor Liang. This level of incompetence is inexcusable, even for one with such standing in the military." The chancellor paused, before continuing in a more charitable tone. "I believe it is time for lunch. I have some business to take care of, so I will not be accompanying the rest of the council to the hall. The council will reconvene, as usual, in an hour's time."_

_There was some mumbling, but slowly the participants made their way out of the meeting hall, leaving only Harry and the Chancellor behind. Once there were no potential eavesdroppers within range, the Chancellor stood up from his seat, turned to face Harry and spoke._

_"Your indignation is understandable, Princess, but such outbursts are unhelpful at this stage. I implore you to refrain from such displays in the future."_

_Harry knew the Chancellor was right, so he gave a stiff nod. "I know, Chancellor, but it is... difficult to control oneself at times. You have my word that I will make an effort to comply with your request."_

_The Chancellor smiled, and began walking towards one of the grand windows, motioning for Harry to follow him. Harry obliged, and when they came to stand side by side in front of the window, overlooking a great forest and a mountain range in the distance, the Chancellor spoke._

_"It may prove to be easier if you can see things from Governor Liang's perspective." Harry turned towards the Chancellor and raised an eyebrow, and the Chancellor continued. "Governor Liang is in an extremely precarious position. The dynasty which has given him such an important position is facing a civil war. He has no chance of negotation with the hostile force, despite what you've implied during the meeting. There is a risk that even those within our own court will attempt to assassinate him, lay the blame at the feet of the rebels and usurp his position. He is trying to hold onto every bit of his already fragile power base to avoid such an eventuality."_

_Harry wasn't satisfied. "In doing so, he does the war effort a great deal of harm. Can't he see the price we are paying for appointing commanders based on political connections and not based on merit?"_

_The Chancellor sighed. "Of course he can, Princess. You ask the wrong question. The right question is, why should he care?"_

_"What do you mean?" Harry was truly confused now._

_"I mean, Princess, that Governor Liang cares for the well-being of himself, his close associates and his relatives before such abstract concepts as the dynasty, the realm or the Mandate of Heaven. In that, he is similar to most others. Can you truly fault a person for acting to the best of his ability to defend his life and the lives of his children against those who seek to harm them?"_

_It was Harry's turn to let out a breath. "People pursuing their own selfish interests need not result in an overall outcome that's desirable, Chancellor. There may be unfavourable Nash equilibria." Upon seeing the Chancellor's lack of comprehension, Harry explained. "It is a technical term named after a muggle mathematician, Chancellor. Don't worry about it."_

_The Chancellor smiled. "Very well, Princess. You're right, of course - that is one of the central problems we face in organizing a structure of good governance. However, the question I asked is not whether the actions of such a person would overall prove to be harmful; it was whether the person in question could be faulted for their actions."_

_Harry frowned. "What is the difference, Chancellor? Isn't the proper way to determine whether an action is faulty or not to look at its overall consequences?"_

_"Perhaps, Princess. Or perhaps the proper way to judge such actions is to examine the intent behind them, to see whether they were done in order to meet the demands of one's duty to their fellow men." The Chancellor paused. "Have you ever heard the story of the two brothers who were tried for revenge killing during the Tang period?"_

_Harry shook his head, and the Chancellor continued. "A man had murdered another, and the two sons of the deceased man resolved on killing the one who murdered their father as retribution. Their case went to trial, where an interesting disagreement emerged between the Confucian and the Legalist scholars of the time. The Legalist scholars had a simple case - revenge killing was not legal under the Tang code, and with no extenuating circumstances involved, the two brothers had to be given the death penalty as demanded by law. The Confucian scholars, however, argued that the two brothers had acted according to their duty of filial piety, which is one of the central pillars of Confucian ethics. As such, they said the brothers should walk away without any punishment. One side recommends execution, whereas the other would absolve them of any wrongdoing - an extreme disagreement, indeed."_

_"What was the verdict?"_

_The Chancellor smiled. "Emperor Xuanzong himself ruled that the brothers were to be given the death penalty. The ruling set a lasting precedent for dealing with similar cases across the Tang dynasty."_

_Harry hummed. "In our case, the Legalists would fault Liang for his breach of the law, whereas the Confucians may think differently, depending on how they contrast the duty of a father to his son with the duty of a subject to their Emperor." Harry paused. "What is the right answer, then? Is it that fault itself is subjective?"_

_The Chancellor was still smiling as he answered. "I do not know, Princess. It may be so, or it may be that there is a right answer which we can't determine with our limited knowledge. Personally, however, I find it much easier to not fault officials like Governor Liang for their actions. It does not mean I must tolerate the harm they do to the realm any further, but it allows me to deal with the issues in a level-headed manner, instead of losing my sense of calm in my indignation towards them." _

_Harry's gaze became distant. "Chancellor, may I ask you a... private question?"_

_"Of course, Princess. You need not feel any trepidation in your questions in my company."_

_Harry closed his eyes as he decided on the best way to phrase his question. "I have seen much of this country in the past few years, and I can't help but feel that the rebels point to many legitimate issues in the realm - issues which the people feel strongly about, issues which matter to their lives. I've seen the class discrimination, the racism, the regressive system of taxation which places the burden of fiscal expenditures on the poor. Sometimes, I think that the rebels are right to criticize us as they do."_

_"Every country has its problems, Princess - ours, perhaps, more than many others. You're right to think that the rebels point to real issues. The fault I find with them is not that they are of ill intent or that they have misidentified the problems plaguing the realm. I find fault with their solutions - or lack thereof, if you look at things from our perspective."_

_Harry sighed. "I know that, Chancellor. I do not mean to suggest that their methods of solving these problems are viable. My question is; how can we expect the people to fight for the dynasty when we are unable to solve the many problems ailing them? Can our dynasty legitimately lay claim to the Mandate of Heaven when the realm suffers as it does? What is the meaning of achieving victory in this war if in the end it will be for naught?"_

_The Chancellor's response was firm and resolute. "Civil war and lack of common sense are not the only ways of attempting reform, Princess. We don't have the luxury of falling into such a state of despondency. However, for reform to be successful, victory in this war is essential. Until that time, we must make do with the faulty machinery of state that we have, as it is the only one that will aid us in these perilous times."_

_Harry was once again impressed by the man's resolve. Satisfied with his answer, he turned and smiled at the Chancellor. "I understand, Chancellor." He paused before asking about another piece of news he'd heard recently. "Chancellor, news have reached my ears that some trouble in Britain has been brought to the agenda of the ICW. Would you have any knowledge of the matter?"_

_The Chancellor nodded. "I do, Princess. It appears that a terrorist group prejudiced against those of impure blood has emerged in Britain, and they have been the cause of some unrest in the country. Britain has requested aid from the Confederation."_

_Harry couldn't help the snort escaping his mouth. "The Confederation will do nothing, as usual. I find myself curious if the Confederation ever takes any meaningful action other than its organization of the Statute of Secrecy."_

_The Chancellor let out a chuckle. "You may have a point, Princess. Still, I would not discount potential involvement by the Confederation just yet. There has been a significant surge in leftist sentiment across the world in recent years, one that we have felt dearly, of course. Given the right-wing attitudes of the British terrorists..."_

_Harry felt quite annoyed that Britain stood a chance of receiving aid due to some small matter of civil unrest while China recevied no aid whatsoever in open warfare that has been ongoing for three years, and he made no attempt to conceal it. The Chancellor noticed, but he did not react. Harry chose to contribute productively to the discussion instead of making a comment about the unfairness of life._

_"From what I know, Britain has a rather uncommon history of right-wing extremism that is not common in many other places in the world. Do you have any idea why that is, Chancellor?"_

_The Chancellor hummed. "It's hard to say much conclusively, but I believe the reason has to do with the particularly violent history between British wizards and the muggles inhabiting the island dating back before the Statute of Secrecy. There is a reason, after all, why the Statute was first brought to the agenda of the Confederation by Britain - it was the country that had the most problems with muggles by far. I think the prejudice simply extended over time to whomever was seen as too friendly to the muggle population." There was a pause. "As you know, our own country has a history of conflict between sorcerers and muggles as well; but I believe our community of sorcerers was simply too isolated to have much interaction with the muggles, even before the Statute's enactment."_

_"I understand." Harry belatedly noticed that it was almost time for the meeting to reconvene, and hurriedly made his way to his seat. The Chancellor mirrored his actions, and a minute later the doors flung open._

* * *

Harry emerged from the memory in a state of confusion, and it took him a moment to dissociate himself from the thoughts and emotions that Ming had experienced in it. Once he had done so, he was unable to contain his astonishment and he became aware of Ming eyeing him with no small amount of amusement. He struggled to form a coherent sentence for a few moments, and finally managed to blurt out "You're _Princess _Ming?"

Ming merely smiled. "I see you've heard of me."

Harry had heard of her, though he couldn't say his knowledge extended much further than her name. "Why... are you in the British Department of Mysteries?" The situation made no sense whatsoever.

"Sherwin should've told you that there is a network of similar, connected institutions across the world. He should've also told you that the Department does not truly exist - not in any centralized capacity, at least. What did you make of those revelations?"

Harry thought over it for a moment. "That there is no British Department of Mysteries?"

"Not quite, but close to the truth," said Ming, smiling. "There _is _a British Department of Mysteries, but its function is only to handle the connection of our community to the country of Britain. Sherwin is responsible for most of these activites, but the community is very much an international one."

"How did that come to be? I'm certain that when the Department of Mysteries was initially established, it had no such international associations."

"It did not. Britain was a pioneer of such institutions, but even at the time of its establishment, the British Department of Mysteries was open to the idea of international recruitment. In time, similar institutions were created in many other countries, and they became interconnected in order to make use of the economies of scale in cooperative research, among other reasons. This led to the community of researchers becoming dissociated from any particular institution - after all, the problems foreseen by Procyon Rigel Black could not have been solved with merely a localized effort in a single country."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back. That made sense, he supposed, although the scale of this hidden society was only becoming apparent to him now. Instead of focusing on that, he replayed the memory he'd just seen in his mind.

"Do you think Xuanzong made the right decision?"

Ming's reaction told Harry that she hadn't been expecting this question. She responded after some moments of thought. "I've never been an admirer of Confucius, Harry. I must say that I've always found Han Fei and Mozi to be far more comprehensible." She paused. "Why do you ask?"

Harry let out a breath and opened his eyes to look at Ming. "Confucius said that a good society would only emerge if the individuals in it acted with good ethics. Legalists, in contrast, attempted to impose such goodness on the society through the use of incentives, both positive and negative. According to them, a good society would be one which had the appropriate structure to induce the individuals within it to act in a proper manner. Do you think the Confucian ideal is unattainable?"

"I certainly don't think previous dynasties have had much success with their pursuit of that ideal, Harry." She paused. "I wouldn't pronounce it to be unattainable outright, though it certainly seems difficult. I also have to say that I have my disagreements with Confucian scholars about what kind of individual ethics would qualify as good."

Harry chuckled. "That makes two of us, in that case." His gaze became distant. "Perhaps in this instance Confucian leniency was not the appropriate response, though I can't help but think of how Xuanzong's greatest mistake was caused by his unwillingness to listen more closely to his Confucian advisors."

Ming clearly understood what he was talking about, and she responded resolutely. "The Tang dynasty made mistakes leading up to the rebellion of An Lushan, but you can't lay the blame for that entirely on Xuanzong's poor choice of military governor. The political sentiment in Hebei would have erupted into rebellion in any case."

Harry acquiesced. "You may be right. What I mean to say is that when you adopt the legalist approach to organizing a society, you always have to contend with the problem of avoiding - as you said in the memory - unfavourable Nash equilibria. If the Confucian solution were feasible, one could avoid this problem."

Ming's eyes shone with realization. "That's what you intend to do... but how?"

"I am not sure yet," Harry admitted. "It is a difficult task, but I believe the first step has already been taken - rather ironically, by the Dark Lord himself."

"I thought as much," Ming said. "It is not the first time a fission bomb has been used in such a setting by wizards, but this incident could not be concealed from the general public for long. I assume you intend to take advantage of this situation?"

Harry nodded. "So does he. His ultimate aim, however, involves political subjugation. I can't allow that to happen if my plan is going to succeed."

Ming shook her head in amusement, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. "I think Britain always worries too much about individual leaders and not nearly enough about the underlying problems in the society. They fear the name of a man, and yet they don't fear the fragility, the cracks in their society which allowed the man's rise to power." She paused. "Given this Dark Lord's unusual desires, he will never be able to achieve what he intends to. I doubt you've much need to worry about him."

"I know," Harry said. "He can still do a significant amount of damage. However, my real concern is the mysterious conspirators... I feel that they will prove to be the greatest obstacle I will have to contend with."

Ming nodded in understanding. "If you want my advice, I would say you should focus on Harold Minchum. He's the only real lead you have, since I doubt you'll find out much by investigating the Express at this point. It's not an easy task to Confund a person so thoroughly, and I know for a fact that Minchum would've been protected against such a thing in places that he frequented in his capacity as Minister. Try to find an unusual meeting he attended about the right time, a location that's out of place in his travelling schedule..."

Upon hearing that, Harry had an epiphany. He now knew exactly how to proceed in his investigation. He nodded. "I appreciate the advice, Ming." He stood up. "I'm afraid have to leave now. I've already stayed far longer than I had anticipated."

She stood up as well, beaming at him. "I see. You know how to visit if you need anything."

"I do," Harry said, and promptly apparated away from the room.


	14. The Cave

"Esteemed members of the court, I invite Mr Potter to the floor to answer your questions about the incident which recently occured in Azkaban island. Mr Potter, the floor is yours."

Cornelius Fudge observed from his seat as Dumbledore left the stand and made his way to the Chief Warlock's seat in the court. He had learned only this morning that Potter had somehow been recruited by the Department of Mysteries following his visit to his office when he had been told that the expert testimony that the Wizengamot requested from the Department regarding the incident in Azkaban would be given by Potter. Cornelius himself was curious about many of the details, and he hoped this testimony would provide some reassurance to the public and the court about the situation and calm the hysteria which his administration was having trouble withstanding. He had never thought that the favor he did for Potter could benefit him under such extraordinary circumstances, but now he hoped Potter's testimony would be mellow enough that the court would not be demanding his head on a spike by the end of the proceedings. He'd already had to distance himself from Lucius Malfoy when it became clear that the man would be investigated for his alleged involvement in the attack, his vehement denials notwithstanding. Without the support of the blood purists in court, impeachment was a real possibility, one that he dearly wanted to avoid.

He was not blind to the glances that Dumbledore and Potter had been giving each other during the session so far, and it aroused his suspicions about what possible involvement the two might have with each other, but now was hardly the time to worry about anything of the sort. His campaign to discredit Dumbledore had been promptly put on hold with the attack on Azkaban island, and the attention of the entire country was now focused on the resulting political crisis. The conservative faction in court had been shattered following suspicions of involvement in the attack by several pureblood families, and Cornelius was caught in the middle of the resulting power struggle.

Cornelius was shaken out of his musings by Potter's voice, who had apparently made his way to the stand in the meantime. "Thank you, Chief Warlock. Esteemed members of the court, I would first like to deliver my sincere condolences to all in the country who have lost loved ones in the recent attack. Many Ministry employees had been staffed in Azkaban tower when the attack took place, and dozens of lives were lost as a result. I hope I will be able to shed further light on the events that took place that day, along with any other questions this court may have for the Department."

Potter took a deep breath before continuing. "I will begin by providing an explanation which I hope covers the questions delivered to the Department by the court. The attack was conducted using a device known as a fission bomb, which is a Muggle device whose working principle is based on the understanding that mass is a form of potential energy. Roughly speaking, the device uses a series of reactions to convert mass into other forms of energy, which is then transferred to the environment in a violent manner, giving the weapon large-scale destructive potential." There was a pause. "The manufacturing of the weapon poses a significant challenge in the Muggle world, but a sorcerer who is well-learned in the art of transfiguration would be able to produce a makeshift fission bomb with nothing more than a wand given a sufficient amount of time."

Potter's last sentence was followed by pandemonium in the hall. The possibility that a weapon of such destructive potential could be manufactured so easily by a single sorcerer was not an easy fact to accept for many. Cornelius himself had been concerned about this, but he did not break his composure. After a few moments of chaos, there was a loud bang.

"Order!" Dumbledore's voice reverberated throughout the hall, and the shouting died down as a consequence. Once the hall fell into silence again, Potter continued.

"I understand why the esteemed members of the court may be worried about such a state of affairs, but I assure you that your concerns are exaggerated. Appropriate precautions against the use of such devices in the vicinity of large population centers in Britain, such as the twin alleys, have been in place since 1926. The locations were warded by the Department in order to make sure that the mechanism fission bombs rely on, which is a chain reaction requiring the presence of a fissile isotope, would be halted before the reaction spiralled out of control. An analogy that this court may be more familiar with would be to compare these wards to the precautions taken against the use of Fiendfyre in such areas."

"Why weren't we informed of this earlier?!" Cornelius was startled by the sudden cry from one of the court members. Cornelius recognized him as a representative whose campaign had close ties with what remained of the Rosier and Selwyn families. He noticed Potter give the man a venomous glare which startled both the man and Cornelius.

"It is not my responsibility to inform the members of this court on constitutional matters, Mr Ainsworth. If you require information regarding the nature of the Department's operations within the British government, you should pose your queries to an expert on constitutional law."

There were again some murmurs in the hall, but this time they faded into silence without any intervention from Dumbledore. Ainsworth appeared indignant, but he made no further comment. Potter continued.

"Azkaban was never warded by the Department against the use of such devices, since it did not qualify as a large population center and we received no formal request from the Ministry to undertake such a project. It was a vulnerability that was exploited in this recent attack, and as a result security measures against the use of fission bombs and other similar Muggle weaponry have been tightened around the country on account of the recent request made of the Department by Minister Fudge himself."

Cornelius had made a rather vague request that the Department should take "whatever measures are necessary to ensure such an attack does not happen again", but the way Potter presented the story made the situation appear in a different light which was more favourable for his administration. He smiled in relief; perhaps this hearing would not go so badly for him after all.

"That ends my preliminary explanation. The floor is now open to questions from the court."

Within a moment, several representatives had their hands raised, asking for permission from the Chief Warlock. The first question was predictable.

"Mr Potter, does the Department have any suspicions about who may be behind the attack?"

"I'm afraid we do not. As I stated in my explanation, it is entirely possible for a capable sorcerer with the required knowledge to manufacture such a weapon on his own. It is unlikely that the attack was carried out entirely by Muggles. They would've required to have a means of seeing past the secrecy wards placed on Azkaban island to target it so precisely, and according to our knowledge that would be impossible. However, cooperation between certain rogue elements in the wizarding and Muggle worlds is not out of the question."

The next question was more intriguing. "Mr Potter, what is the Department's evaluation of the potential threat posed by Muggles in the event of warfare between our worlds?"

Potter let out a breath. "The Muggles and their weaponry pose no threat to us. If such an unfortunate circumstance were to come to pass, the Department would be able to provide the Ministry with the necessary tools to ensure the victory and minimal losses of the British magical community." Potter paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating how to continue, and then he smiled. "After all, that foresight was part of _the wisdom of Ralston Potter and Procyon Rigel Black for their role in creating and organizing the Department of Mysteries._"

Cornelius was not sure what Potter was talking about, but he noticed several members of the court gasp at Potter's proclamation, as if what he'd just said was highly shocking or offensive. He was surprised to notice Amelia Bones responding in a stern voice without asking for permission from Dumbledore.

"Mr Potter, what are you implying?"

Potter smiled pleasantly at Bones, apparently uncaring of her veiled animosity. "Whatever do you mean, Madam Bones?"

There was a bizarre staring contest between Bones and Potter that mystified Cornelius, but eventually Bones backed down. The next question was also one that Cornelius expected.

"Mr Potter, what is your assessment of the risk of the Statute of Secrecy being breached due to this recent incident?"

"We believe the subsequent cleanup operation conducted by the Ministry should be sufficient to maintain the integrity of the Statute. The concentrations of nuclear waste in the environment have been reduced to their pre-detonation levels, and measures were taken to make the detonation appear to be the result of a sufficiently powerful earthquake. Such earthquakes are very rare near the Isles due to the tectonic structure in the vicinity, but without any trace of nuclear waste the Muggles will not be able to deduce the true nature of the incident."

Afterwards, there was a flurry of further questions which Cornelius did not think were too important, but Potter answered most of them regardless. Once the meeting was over, Cornelius shook hands with some of the participants in a hurry, barely noticing from the corner of his eye that Dumbledore and Potter were leaving the court hall together. He would've observed more closely under any other circumstance, but right now he had to be on time for a meeting that was to start in his office in less than five minutes, so instead of paying attention to their interaction he hastily made his way out of the hall and headed towards his office.

* * *

Harry and Dumbledore emerged, one after the other, from the fireplace in Dumbledore's office.

"I must say that went better than I expected," Harry said while making his way to the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore followed him and sat down opposite Harry before responding.

"Indeed, Harry. I was concerned that the panic would prove to be more difficult to manage, but your explanation soothed their concerns quite successfully."

Harry looked intently at Dumbledore. "What do you think his next move will be, Professor?"

"I don't know, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I must admit that this turn of events was outside of my calculations. To think that Lord Voldemort would strike at his own followers... I believe he is already moving in the background, making preparations for however he intends to take advantage of this situation."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, but before he could say anything further Dumbledore changed the subject. "Did you have any success in your investigation, Harry?"

"I did, Professor," said Harry. "The Department of Mysteries had no knowledge of the hostile wards on the Express. The ward-weaver did not notice their presence on the train, since they were hidden expertly in a polluted frequency region which they saw no need to analyze extensively."

Dumbledore did not look surprised. "I had arrived at the same conclusion, Harry, based on what I uncovered when removing the wards. When you first informed me about the situation, the possibility of such a technique being used did not occur to me." He paused, then continued in a grave tone. "It would require a great deal of expertise to be able to accomplish such a feat. I fear we're dealing with a foe of considerable talent."

"I agree, Professor." Harry was only mildly surprised that Dumbledore understood his explanation regarding how the wards had been concealed. It was clear to Harry that Dumbledore's understanding of magic was far beyond what was taught at the school, and he clearly had extensive knowledge of many disciplines that wizards typically considered to be "muggle". It made Harry curious about why the contents of the school curriculum were so inaccurate and misleading. He couldn't contain his curiosity further, so he decided to ask the question. "Professor, may I ask a question?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course, Harry."

"Why is it that the school does not teach the truth behind magic, but rather mostly instructs the students in wand-based spellwork?" Harry noticed that his question had amused Dumbledore, since he noticed the twinkle in his eyes which he had come to associate with Dumbledore's jovial mood.

"There are two primary reasons behind that omission. The first reason is that a sorcerer, however talented they may be, needs extensive practice with simpler applications of magic before they are able to attempt more sophisticated feats." He paused. "From what I've gathered, you've been practicing magic deliberately for a long time before you arrived at Hogwarts. Your history is highly unusual in this respect. For most students, the time they spend at Hogwarts serves this purpose of acclimation."

Harry nodded. He already knew this, but he saw no reason to deprive students of the theoretical knowledge even if they would not be performing advanced spellwork for some time. Dumbledore continued. "The second reason is, perhaps, the more pertinent one. What fraction of the muggle population in Britain would you say has an undergraduate degree in mathematics or physics?"

Harry frowned in thought, but he already understood the point Dumbledore was making about the population effect. He decided to answer the question regardless. "One in five thousand, Professor?"

Dumbledore beamed at him. "That's a guess of the right order of magnitude. If the proportion were to simply carry over to magical Britain, then you would expect perhaps a dozen such people in magical Britain at most. Hogwarts is an institution of education attended by most wizards and witches in Britain, so I'm afraid the content has to be appropriate to the interests and capabilities of a general audience."

"There is also no need for an institution of higher education when the number of potential students would be so little," continued Harry. "That's why apprenticeships are the common method of instruction chosen to impart advanced theoretical knowledge of magic."

"That's exactly right." There was a pause before Dumbledore continued in a wistful tone. "Most witches and wizards are content to live their lives without ever knowing about the true wonders of magic. It is a fact I find upsetting on some occasions that I find myself thinking about it, but I try to do my best to inspire curiosity in the subject at Hogwarts."

Harry had known that a person like Dumbledore would appreciate the wonders of magic, of course, but hearing his own concerns being voiced by Dumbledore so openly led him once more to think about how much they had in common. The difference, Harry thought, was that Dumbledore was not willing to consider any extreme solutions to rectify the situation, while Harry had no such compunctions. This difference, however, did not lessen the empathy Harry felt for the Professor at that moment. He smiled, his own expression carrying traces of his own longing for a different world. "I appreciate your effort, Professor, and I think every sorcerer and sorceress in Britain owes you a great debt for your service to this society."

Dumbledore was clearly startled by the unexpected praise. "I don't believe my humble efforts deserve to be lauded so highly, Harry, but I am nevertheless honored."

The room fell silent as Harry's mind wandered to his upcoming appointment with Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office. Harry hoped that Scrimgeour would cooperate and give up the information he needed to begin unveiling the mystery of how advanced mind magic could've been used on Harold Minchum during his tenure as Minister, but from what he'd heard of the man Harry expected him to drive a hard bargain. It had been a factor which influenced him to go through with his veiled threat before the Wizengamot. Judging by Bones' reaction to the threat, she had understood the reference. _Back off and don't interfere, _Harry had warned, _if you don't want to follow in the footsteps of Artemisia Lufkin._

Harry was thinking about Bartemius Crouch's role in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament and whether the man could have any useful information on Harold Minchum's security detail when Dumbledore interrupted his train of thought.

"I have further news, Harry." Dumbledore paused with a grave expression, and Harry wondered if the man was creating dramatic tension on purpose. "I believe I've located one of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes."

Harry's interest was instantly piqued, and he snapped to attention. "Where, Professor?"

"It is a location he visited sometime during his childhood, a seaside cave. I expect the location to be heavily warded and enchanted against attempts to retrieve the horcrux."

Realization dawned in Harry's mind. "You intend for me to accompany you?"

Dumbledore nodded. "There might be challenges in the cave which are easier to overcome with the presence of two sorcerers rather than one. I can think of no better company than you, Harry."

Harry agreed with Dumbledore's assessment, but he felt that Dumbledore had come to the conclusion that two sorcerers would have a better chance at success based on some information that Harry did not have. He did not question Dumbledore's judgement, however. "I would be honored, Professor. When do you intend to retrieve the horcrux?"

"As soon as possible, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I have many responsibilities here at the school, but addressing the threat of Lord Voldemort takes priority. If it would not inconvenience you, I believe we should act now."

Harry had no plans which would require to be postponed because of this, so he nodded. He was of the mind that the Dark Lord's horcruxes had to be destroyed with haste. "I understand. I'm ready, Professor." Dumbledore smiled, and the pair stood up.

"I will not dare to disturb the protective enchantments surrounding the castle, so we will have to leave the castle grounds before apparating to our destination," said Dumbledore.

Harry thought Dumbledore's wariness was justified, so he followed the Professor out of the office and through the empty corridors of the castle.

* * *

The pair appeared silently on a large rock overlooking a grand cave in the distance. High waves crashed against the rock and little sunlight made its way past the thick layer of clouds in the sky. Harry turned towards Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow.

"The vicinity of the cave is warded against apparition, Harry."

Harry sighed, then concentrated to slowly levitate himself off the rock and began flying towards the entrance of the cave. Dumbledore, in contrast, simply walked down the slope of the rock and jabbed his wand forward in a sudden movement, and the waters of the ocean parted in front of him, kept apart by the force of the spell to create a dry passage towards the cave. The pair arrived at the entrance simultaneously and Harry felt the resonance of the wards as soon as he landed in front of the cave. He closed his eyes and frowned in concentration.

"This place has been warded against apparition, portkey use, and there is another enchantment that I cannot place..."

Dumbledore responded as the pair began making their way through the entrance and into the cave. "You're correct. The final enchantment, I believe, is one that is intended to prevent conjuration and preservation of water."

Harry did not understand why such an enchantment would be of use, but he could understand how this unidentified ward would achieve that purpose, so he had no reason to doubt Dumbledore's assessment. "Why do you think Lord Voldemort thought such an enchantment to be necessary, Professor?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't know yet, Harry, though I believe we will not have to wait long for that mystery to be resolved."

The pair made their way through the dark pathway and found themselves standing in front of a large boulder blocking the way forward. Harry once again concentrated on the movements in the Shroud around him, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Blood wards..."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Indeed. Lord Voldemort must've intended these wards to weaken any who would venture further, either by providing the necessary payment or by dismantling the wards."

Harry thought about which option would serve them better under these circumstances. The ward was one which could be dismantled either with great finesse or with great force. Either option would cause significant mental exertion in the sorcerer trying to bypass them. However, with two sorcerers present instead of one, the finesse required was cut down significantly. The correct course of action was obvious. Harry took out his wand and pointed it towards the boulder. Dumbledore smiled and mirrored his actions.

"I trust you know that this enchantment can only be dispelled efficiently if the two sorcerers work in harmony, Harry." Seeing Harry's nod, Dumbledore continued. "I will initiate the process, and I ask you to follow my lead."

Harry watched, transfixed for a moment, as Dumbledore traced out complicated patterns with his wand to calm some of the interwoven enchantments making up the sophisticated blood ward. When he noticed the first signs of the protective enchantments designed to maintain the integrity of the blood wards flare up, he sprung to action to calm the violent reaction.

Harry's attention was completely occupied by his task when he noticed the enchantments occupying him starting to dissolve. He smiled and cautiously halted his interference with the enchantments before turning to look at Dumbledore. What he saw did not surprise him in the slightest - the man had the same smile and look of satisfaction on his face. It was not merely satisfaction that they could now continue their task of retrieving the horcrux. There was also a sense of achievement, of meeting a worthy challenge and overcoming it with grace and efficiency.

After some moments of basking in this feeling, the pair refocused their attention on the reason behind their presence in the cave. With the protective enchantments gone, Harry simply pointed his wand at the boulder and it promptly dissolved into dust.

The scene that appeared before them was eerie in a strange way - they stood before a grand opening within the cave. There was a lake stretching across most of the opening and a small island in the center of the lake, from which a weak green light shone, illuminating the darkness of the cave. A narrow pathway marked the circular boundary of the lake. None of this, however, was relevant to Harry as he was frozen in place by what he sensed lurking underneath the water.

"Inferi..." he breathed. "Hundreds of them lurk beneath the water, dormant."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. If my judgement is correct, they will become active the moment a foreign object makes contact with the water in the lake." He paused. "The horcrux is located on the small island at the center of the lake, I believe. We will have to make our way to the island."

Harry was feeling uneasy about the situation. Why would the inferi become active when the water came into contact with a foreign object? The only circumstance under which such an activation condition made sense was if the Dark Lord had absolute confidence that anyone who wished to retrieve the horcrux would have to somehow make contact with the water, and yet there were many ways for a sorcerer to make his way to the central island without ever coming into contact with the lake water.

"Do you believe the inferi would be awakened by our use of magic to get to the island, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked contemplative. "I sense no enchantments with that explicit purpose, however it is possible that such an attempt would inadvertently disturb the lake water sufficiently to awaken them. It is... difficult to say."

In other words, it was not a risk worth taking if they could find an alternative means of transportation. Harry then noticed a slim chain hanging from the high ceiling of the chamber some distance away from where they were standing. He pointed towards it.

"Professor, that chain may be the means of transportation we're looking for."

Dumbledore looked in the direction he was pointing and smiled. "I believe you're correct, Harry."

The pair began moving cautiously along the narrow pathway towards the chain, and once they were close enough, Harry yanked the chain downwards. As his senses had told him, a boat appeared below them in response, and after some precautionary checking, Harry frowned. He took out his wand and looked at the Professor, silently asking for permission. Dumbledore inclined his head, and Harry made several flicks with his wand pointed at the boat. He felt the wards placed on the boat fade in response, and Dumbledore promptly climbed on the boat, motioning for Harry to follow. He obliged, and the boat started moving slowly towards the island, not a sound disturbing the complete silence of the chamber.

Soon, the boat stopped next to the island, and Dumbledore climbed off the boat followed shortly by Harry. The pair arrived at the peak of the small hill situated on the island, and Harry noticed a murky black potion contained in a crystal basin. Harry's eyes widened as he identified the potion - it was the Drink of Despair. He suddenly realized why the Dark Lord had such confidence that any interloper would have to come into contact with the surrounding lake water, and he gulped.

However, what truly surprised him was what he felt next. There was a locket within the basin, but as Harry concentrated, he felt none of the neural structure that characterized a horcrux, nor the extensive protective enchantments that one would typically carry. He frowned and turned towards Dumbledore, whose expression reflected that he did not expect this. Harry said what he'd found out loud regardless. "The locket is not a horcrux, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "It appears so. Curious... the information that led me to believe Lord Voldemort had made Salazar Slytherin's locket into a horcrux is incontrovertible."

If that was true, then there was only one possibility left. "Someone must've taken the real horcrux from this place and replaced it with a poorly crafted replica," Harry said. "It is the only feasible explanation given all of what we know."

"I fear you're right," said Dumbledore. "I wonder if the true horcrux has been destroyed, or whether it still remains intact..."

Harry did not know the answer to that question, but he had another realization. "The visitor would not have left a poor replica with the purpose of deceiving Lord Voldemort if they knew anything about his capabilities," he said. "What they have left in the basin may give us some clue of their identity or what they've done with the real horcrux."

"I concur with your judgement, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Retrieving the replica is still important, despite the circumstances defying my initial expectations."

With that decision made, the pair began thinking furiously about how to overcome the last obstacle in their way to the replica of Slytherin's locket without falling into the trap set for them by Lord Voldemort.


	15. Arsaces Sharr

"We've found ourselves in quite the predicament," Dumbledore said. "The basin has been enchanted to ensure that the only way one can take out the replica is to drink the potion, and disturbing the enchantments will certainly awaken the inferi surrounding us from their slumber."

Harry nodded. The circumstances compelled them to face the inferi residing within the depths of the lake if they intended to retrieve the replica. "What do you intend to do, Professor?"

Dumbledore furrowed his brows. "It may be possible to avoid a direct confrontation if I were to drink the potion... your presence makes that course of action possible."

Harry's response was firm and resolute. "No."

Dumbledore turned towards him. "Why are you opposed to this plan, Harry?"

"I can't bring myself to do that, Professor. The _potion_," Harry spat out the word in disgust, "deprives one of their mental faculties, even if only temporarily. I can't violate another's mind in such a way, even if my involvement is indirect."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, but there was a glint in his eyes that Harry could not decipher. "I understand."

Harry was glad that Dumbledore did not insist on this plan, because the very thought of inflicting such horror on a person, let alone a person as brilliant as Dumbledore, disgusted him to his core. It was one of the few things he couldn't bring himself to do. After a few moments, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"In that case, we're left with two choices. Either one of us will dismantle the enchantments on the basin while the other wards off the inferi from coming near the island, or the inferi must be destroyed completely before we can turn our attention to the retrieval of the locket."

Harry nodded silently. Inferi were enchanted by their creators to avoid heat, so as long as a region of sufficiently high temperature enclosed the island, the inferi would not approach the island. In contrast, destroying all of the inferi would take more time and effort. "I think we should use the first approach, Professor."

Dumbledore looked at him intently. "Do you have the utmost confidence that you can prevent the inferi from getting on the island until I can dispel the enchantments?"

"Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well." He walked closer to the basin and pointed his wand at the locket within. "Best of luck."

Harry clutched his own wand in anticipation, waiting for Dumbledore's signal. He saw Dumbledore close his eyes and let out a breath, the sound reverberating throughout the chamber. Finally, Dumbledore opened his eyes and gave him a subtle nod. Harry made a wide circular motion with his wand, tracing out the boundary between the island and the lake water, and incanted "_Protego diabolica!_"

This particular spell was a version of Fiendfyre which had been repurposed by Antioch Peverell into a defensive shield which shielded its caster and their allies from the extreme heat of the flames. Accordingly, a ring of white-hot flames surrounded the perimeter of the island, and Harry directed them to enclose the island in a spherical shell. He noticed the awakening of the inferi immediately, which confirmed their suspicions that the use of such a powerful spell would be sufficient for them to become active.

The flames burned so brightly that Harry had to close his eyes and rely only on his other senses. The inferi were waiting beyond the barrier, but they did not dare approach the flames too closely. His focus was on maintaining control of the spell, so he did not pay any attention to the progress Dumbledore was making. Soon, he became entranced in the patterns and flows within the Shroud caused by the spell's chaotic nature and his own efforts to control them. He did not know how long it had been when he felt Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder which startled him out of his trance-like state.

"It is done, Harry."

Harry nodded distractedly, most of his focus still on maintaining the spell. He turned towards the boat which was inside the sphere of flames and slowly made his way down the slope of the island. He climbed on the boat carefully, followed by Dumbledore. He raised his arm above his head and made another wide circular arc with his wand to enclose the boat within the shield, and the boat began gliding along the water back towards the entrance of the chamber, enclosed in the blinding sphere of light and heat. Once they were safely back on the narrow path resting above the lake, Harry dispelled the flames and slowly opened his eyes.

He was met by a chilling scene which he had sensed, and yet seeing it with his eyes was... different. Hundreds of inferi were near the surface of the water and upon the island, their foul stench permeating the air of the chamber at this point. Seeing the disfigured bodies of the deceased made Harry nauseous, but he fought off the feeling. He looked back at Dumbledore to see him holding the replica locket in his left hand and his wand in his right. Dumbledore was smiling gently, his face reflecting some of his own exertion. He smiled back at the Professor and the pair turned away from the chamber towards the passageway they had come through.

Soon after their departure, the inferi fell back into their slumber, sensing that their prey was long gone.

* * *

_To the Dark Lord,_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

* * *

Rufus Scrimgeour was seated in his office as he awaited the arrival of Potter for the appointment that he requested a week ago. He had been surprised when Potter had returned after his three year long disappearance, and even more surprised when his recent status as an Unspeakable was revealed during the Wizengamot hearing that took place ten days ago. He was one of the few present that day who had recognized Potter's reference to the 1828 trials, and the idea of a potential clash with the Department of Mysteries was worrying, especially in these times.

Scrimgeour did not publicly say so, but he was aware that Dumbledore would not make a claim about You-Know-Who's return without sufficient evidence to support it. The curious timing of this recent attack on Azkaban made him suspect the involvement of You-Know-Who's agents or perhaps the man himself. Under Fudge, the British government would prove incapable of addressing the threat lurking in the shadows, and the recent scandal had significantly damaged the image of the Ministry in the eyes of the public. The last thing the country or the Ministry needed right now was a conflict with the Unspeakables, least of all with the Boy-Who-Lived specifically. The circumstances were vastly different from the days in which Osbert and Lufkin had challenged Croyne.

Potter chose that moment to open the door to his office and walk inside. Scrimgeour rose from his seat to greet him, and after an exchange of pleasantries Potter made his way to one of the two seats facing one another in front of Scrimgeour's desk. Scrimgeour asked the obvious question upon sitting down.

"Mr Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?"

Potter looked at him and smiled pleasantly, though Scrimgeour could see from his eyes that Potter had come here with determination to achieve some objective. "Many things, Mr Scrimgeour. The first matter I wanted to discuss has to do with the recent incident in Azkaban. Do you have any... suspicions of who may have been involved?"

Scrimgeour was intrigued, but he answered in a serious tone. "I do not, Mr Potter. As you know, it is not the responsibility of my department to investigate this incident."

Potter inclined his head. "I know, Mr Scrimgeour. I didn't come here to seek answers from you regarding this subject, I did so to give you answers if you proved to be... interested."

Scrimgeour tensed and sat up in his chair. _Did the Department of Mysteries already know who was behind the attack? _If that were the case, however, why would they approach him instead of the Minister or Amelia Bones with this information? "I would most certainly be interested in that, Mr Potter."

"Oh, that remains to be seen Mr Scrimgeour," said Potter. "I trust you would know that such answers would not come for free."

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. "What would be the price?"

"It has come to our attention recently that there may have been certain... irregularities of interest to the Department of Mysteries during the War. In order to shed light on these incidents, the Department requires detailed information on the classified protection program the Auror Office initiated in 1971 to defend the Minister against any potential attack by Dark wizards and witches."

The way Potter phrased the request told him nothing about why the Unspeakables wanted this information. It was not within the legal authority of the Department of Mysteries to inquire into this matter unless they provided convincing proof that their involvement was justified, which in this case Potter did not. In other words, this request of classified information by the Department was illegal.

On the other hand, if the transaction was kept secret, then providing the information Potter requested would cost him nothing and he would get to learn more of the truth behind the Azkaban incident. Despite the illegality of this request, he also had no intention to antagonize the Department of Mysteries as a whole. The benefits of agreeing to the transaction clearly outweighed the costs. Therefore, Scrimgeour simply gave a curt nod and responded.

"That could be arranged, provided that the matter is treated with the required discretion."

Potter's smile became wider in response to his agreement. "Discretion is something we would value as well. I trust you can have the necessary documents sent discreetly to the Department in three days' time?"

"That would not be a problem."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Mr Scrimgeour." Potter paused and his expression, which had been jovial until that moment, turned grim. He narrowed his eyes. "What I am about to tell you is known by very few people outside of the Department of Mysteries. I trust you will treat the information with the delicacy demanded by such circumstances."

Scrimgeour was curious, but he carefully masked the emotion. He nodded. "You have no reason to be concerned, Mr Potter."

Potter took a deep breath and looked straight at his eyes with a piercing gaze. "We have reason to believe that the recent attack on Azkaban island was orchestrated by Lord Voldemort himself."

Scrimgeour's eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly in shock, but he quickly regained control over his facial features. "You mean to say..."

"Yes, Mr Scrimgeour," Potter said, interrupting him. "We're certain that Mr Dumbledore's claims are correct. Lord Voldemort has returned to full strength."

"How is that possible?" Scrimgeour could not contain his curiosity.

Potter sighed. "In his own words, Lord Voldemort is a sorcerer _who has gone further than any before him on the path towards immortality_. We're aware of the methods he has relied on to survive the ordeal he suffered in 1981, but it is advanced and dangerous magic. Unless the safeguards he has taken against his death are dealt with, Lord Voldemort is immortal. He can be reduced to an extremely weakened state, but he cannot be killed."

Scrimgeour could not help his flinching whenever Potter made such casual use of You-Know-Who's name, but what Potter said was far more worrying than what he had thought before. Unsure how to respond to what Potter had said, Scrimgeour elected to ask another question. "Who else knows?"

"Outside the Department of Mysteries, Albus Dumbledore knows, though I do not know if he has shared this information with anyone else. Lord Voldemort may also have divulged this secret to others. Our insight into his activities is quite limited, so we cannot say for certain."

Scrimgeour eyed Potter intently. "Why did you not share this information with the Minister or the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

Potter chuckled and his eyes shone with mirth. "You would have us approach Minister Fudge with this information? No, Mr Scrimgeour, I'm afraid we have no intention to set the Ministry against our operations any more than strictly necessary. As for Madam Bones, we believed you would be more amicable to the nature of our request. She has a certain reputation, after all."

Scrimgeour got the distinct impression that the Department of Mysteries would not publicly stand by Dumbledore's claims until the current administration was replaced by one who would not turn hostile against them upon their acknowledgement of You-Know-Who's return. He did not know how much he could read into the fact that they had chosen to approach him with the information, but he was certain this was not merely because of their request of classified information from the Auror Office. He decided to test the waters.

"Mr Potter, based on your remarks so far, one may be excused for believing that the Department of Mysteries does not approve of the current administration's policies."

Potter inclined his head slightly and his lips curled upward. "You have my attention, Mr Scrimgeour."

Scrimgeour continued in a severe tone of voice. "If a change of leadership was in order, could one be faulted for assuming that it would have the support of the Department of Mysteries?"

Potter appeared to be amused by his thinly veiled questions, and he looked like he was having difficulty containing his urge to laugh. "I don't believe so."

Scrimgeour smiled, satisfied by this answer. "I understand. I'm glad that we could agree on this matter."

Potter remained silent for a few moments, appearing to contemplate something, the smile gone from his face. "We do not know the details of Lord Voldemort's plans, but we believe his use of a fission bomb in Azkaban was not a frivolous choice. Soon, movements may emerge in the court which support the establishment of... independent research institutions. I trust you know the meaning behind such a proposal?"

Scrimgeour understood Potter's concern. "I do. I believe, of course, that a capable leadership would not permit any such excess drain on the Ministry's coffers during these uncertain times."

Potter smiled once more. "A reasonable perspective, one that I hope the administration won't be lacking in the times to come." He stood up from his seat, and Scrimgeour did the same in response.

"This meeting has been most productive, Mr Scrimgeour," Potter said as they shook hands. "I believe we may look forward to further cooperation in the future."

"I agree, Mr Potter." With that, Potter turned around and left the room, leaving Scrimgeour behind in a state of shock and satisfaction.

* * *

Harry was busy working on the mechanism of a new spell designed to create large effective voltage differences across different points in space when he was interrupted by someone apparating into his room. He looked up to see Ming staring at him, clearly barely able to contain her excitement.

"Postpone whatever it is that you're doing," said Ming. "There's been a discovery which you'll be interested in."

Harry frowned in puzzlement. "Would you elaborate?"

She nodded. "What do you know about the 4.2 kiloyear event?"

"Not much," Harry said. "I only know of it, to be more precise."

Ming walked forward while absently waving her wand to conjure a rather comfortable-looking chair opposite Harry. She began to explain once she was seated. "The 4.2 kiloyear event is an intense period of aridification that happened roughly 4200 years ago, hence the nomenclature. Evidence for it has been uncovered in Egypt, Mesopotamia, China, parts of Europe and central Asia. Historians have conjectured that the resulting agricultural troubles brought about the end of the Akkadian Empire and the collapse of centralized government in Egypt. The event has also been linked to a period of exceptional flooding of the Yellow River in China."

"I'd heard the legend of Yu the Great before," Harry said. "The time period matches closely."

"It does," she said, inclining her head forward. "The cause of this event has been the subject of much speculation in the past, though no definitive conclusions have been obtained so far." She paused, her eyes alight with her interest in the subject. "Yesterday, an expedition in the vicinity of the Yellow River uncovered traces of the casting of powerful magic by what we believe to be a congregation of sorcerers. The time of casting we can infer based on the evidence matches the start of the aridification period."

Harry leaned forward. "What was the nature of the magic used?"

"That's the intriguing part," Ming said. "It appears that they relied on a chaotic mechanism which would cause a dramatic change in atmospheric currents, possibly to incite a powerful enchanted storm at a certain location. The traces are too degraded for us to say more, but the effects of the spell could've been sufficient to cause widespread changes in the planet's climate for decades."

"Such powerful offensive magic used so long ago..." Harry breathed in excitement. "No wonder the traces would linger in the vicinity still. Do we know anything else?"

Ming shook her head. "That's the extent of what we've uncovered. It is peculiar that no records of this event have survived the test of time; if we're able to detect the traces of what was done so long after the fact, at the time it would not surprise me if the casting had been felt by every capable sorcerer within hundreds of kilometres of the site."

Harry hummed in thought. "Such an extreme measure would likely only be used in warfare against a strong hostile force," he said. "If we accept that assumption, then who was the enemy? Why are there no records left by them either?"

"I don't know," Ming said. "It is the first time we've obtained conclusive evidence of sorcerers having knowledge of such powerful magic so early on in history. If we extrapolate their capabilities from this one incident, it's not surprising that they would be capable of designing and making use of wands, for instance."

"Accepting the existence of such an advanced community of sorcerers would certainly resolve the mystery of the origin of wands," Harry said. "However, it only leads to further questions."

"I think the answers to some of those questions are quite clear," Ming said. "Clear, and yet difficult to accept."

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he understood what Ming was implying. How much knowledge had been lost this time? He leaned back and closed his eyes in a desperate effort to lift his mood after this realization, but he was unsuccessful.

"I... did not think such a thing could've happened before," Harry said. "It is dispiriting to think that so much was lost to us so long ago."

"I understand," she said. "I think similarly, but you react more strongly to such revelations than any I've seen before."

"It is painful for me," Harry admitted. No more words were spoken for a minute as Harry inadvertently observed a period of silence for all of the discoveries of this ancient Chinese civilization that were lost to warfare and the passage of time. Harry was the one to speak first afterwards.

"Can you take me to the site? I want to witness what's left of it in person."

Ming nodded and held out her hand for Harry to hold onto. Harry obliged, and a moment later the pair silently disapparated from the room.

When they appeared moments later in the location, Harry looked around him. There were a few people in the site working on investigating what remained of this ancient ritual chamber, but Harry's attention was drawn to the strange symbols carved onto the stone walls. They resembled runes, Harry realized, but they were not runes that Harry recognized. Much of the ceiling had been destroyed, and the orange glow cast by the setting sun on the clouds in the sky was visible from within the chamber. Harry heard a voice from behind him as he was beginning a more thorough examination.

"Wonderful, is it not?"

Harry turned around to see a young man approaching them from behind. Before he could respond, he heard Ming's voice.

"Arsaces, I didn't expect you to still be here."

Harry couldn't help his curiosity. "The Parthian dynasty?"

Arsaces chuckled. "That's correct. My family has some ties to the ancient Persian dynasties, so naming new members after them is an old tradition."

"I understand," Harry said. He then realized that he hadn't answered the man's original question. "It is wonderful, though also disheartening in certain ways."

"True," Arsaces said. "One wonders if they lacked the appropriate precautions... in some ways, this new discovery serves to vindicate the concerns of Procyon Rigel Black."

Harry did not know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded. Arsaces continued after a moment of silence.

"I've received disturbing news from Britain recently," he said. "Would you happen to know anything about the subject, Harry?"

"It is the Dark Lord," Harry responded. This response didn't faze Arsaces, so Harry thought it was not what he was asking about. He realized the purpose of Arsaces' inquiry a moment later and continued his explanation. "You have no need to worry about the threat he poses to the objective of the community. I've already taken measures to prevent that from becoming a serious problem."

"That's good to hear," Arsaces said. "We tolerate sorcerers of this character to an extent, so long as they have no ambitions of undermining our efforts. This... _Dark Lord_... if he begins to act in such a manner, his interference will have to be contained."

Harry wouldn't understand the twinge of amusement he heard in Arsaces' voice when referring to the Dark Lord until it was too late.

"Have there been any new discoveries?" Ming asked.

Arsaces shook his head. "Nothing significant, unfortunately. We've replaced the secrecy wards around the site to prevent outside interference."

Harry caught onto a word in that sentence. "Replaced?"

Arsaces inclined his head. "There were already such enchantments placed across the site when we discovered it. They have degraded significantly, which is what allowed us to discover its presence. Our dating methods place the origin of the wards in the same time period as the ritual that took place in this chamber."

"I see," Harry said. "Why would they place secrecy enchantments on the chamber when the casting would reveal their location anyway?"

"Perhaps they wished to keep their congregation secret until the ritual was complete," Arsaces responded. "Or perhaps the wards were placed by a third party after the ritual was complete to hide the site from potential interlopers. It is difficult to draw accurate conclusions in this dearth of evidence."

The second explanation was more sensible to Harry, but he didn't know why anyone would've felt the need to prevent this ritual site from being found. What was present in this place that someone would've attempted to hide from others, let alone making use of such sophisticated enchantments that they do not fade due to friction after four thousand years? Harry shook his head. "Do we know of any plausible cause that would drive someone to ward this place in such a manner?"

"They may have intended to prevent the discovery of the site itself," Ming said. "If there had been an object in the site of such value, it would not make sense to keep it in this location."

Harry walked up towards one of the walls, followed closely by Ming and Arsaces. He ran his hand over one of the symbols carved onto the walls. "What do we know about these?"

"Runes," Ming responded. "They resemble the ancient Chinese script, but there are significant differences between the two. Whatever these inscriptions are, they must've had a strong influence on the development of written Chinese characters."

"There will be a flurry of research into these characters," Arsaces remarked. "Whatever influence they may have had on the Chinese script, or vice versa, should become clearer in time. Until then, there is not much we can say."

Harry nodded silently, and Arsaces continued in a pleasant tone of voice. "I am glad we could meet in person, Harry. I'm afraid I have to leave now, but I believe we will see much of one another in the future."

"The pleasure is mutual," said Harry, smiling. He was filled with a sense of foreboding at Arsaces' last comment but did not show any outward sign. A moment later, Arsaces disapparated silently, leaving Harry and Ming standing in the ancient chamber.

* * *

**I'm noticing that some anonymous reviewers are asking questions about the plot in their reviews. I dislike bloating the word count of my chapters with long author's notes, so it is difficult for me to find a medium in which to respond to these questions. If you want your questions answered, then you should create an account on the website and post your review under that name. In that case, I can use the private messaging system on the site to contact you directly.**

**I will answer one reviewer's questions directly as an exception: The primary, though not the only, reason Ravenclaw (or the Department of Mysteries) did not approach Dumbledore is the difference in personality. Dumbledore shows the same appreciation for magic as Harry does, but Ravenclaw's aim is not to teach someone magic. It's far more encompassing than that, and it's already been mentioned or hinted at several times in the story so far. She wanted someone who would finish what she had started, correct the mistake she made by being too impatient.  
**

**The Department of Mysteries being involved is not a red herring. Harry simply misjudged the exact nature of their involvement because he lacked enough information. Once again, this has already been hinted at in chapter 13. As for everything working out for Harry, if you understand Harry's actual goal then you'll realize he's achieved almost nothing in the story so far. Harry's primary objective is not to defeat the Dark Lord or to uncover the identity of the conspirators.**

**As one last hint, I'll say that the primary antagonist of this story (from Harry's perspective) is a character who has been introduced already. It shouldn't be too difficult for the readers to work out who it will be.**


	16. Confrontation

John Dawlish didn't know why, but in the past month he had been attacked three times by unidentified assailants. The attackers always chose relatively depopulated areas and took precautions to ensure that they were unidentifiable. It was frustrating for the veteran Auror, but Dawlish had always prided himself on his academic achievements and his skill in defending himself against the Dark Arts. As a result, he had managed to escape unscathed from all of these encounters, but the fact that he had been targeted consecutively and no other Aurors or Hit Wizards had been subject to such attacks was making him curious.

The attacks had started right after the Azkaban incident and were overshadowed by the resulting fallout. They made the third page news in the Prophet, but nobody was interested in some thugs attacking a Ministry official in the aftermath of such a disaster. As a result, the Ministry took no action to investigate the matter, and Dawlish was left largely to his own devices to fend off the attacks. He did so by avoiding depopulated areas as much as he could and always being on guard. Constantly maintaining these precautions was beginning to take a toll on him; it was as if he was back in the War and nobody else shared his burden.

Right now, he was making his way towards a small wizarding village fifty kilometers north of London to investigate a report about the appearance of Dark wizards in the vicinity. Normally such an investigation would not be handled by the Auror Office, but the report was particularly graphic in its description of the fate of some villagers and it had been deemed credible enough for the Auror Office to get involved. He had just apparated to the village center when he realized something was very wrong.

He was surrounded by four wizards whose faces were not visible. They were dressed in dark robes, and Dawlish recognized their appearance from his previous encounters with the assailants. He immediately braced himself for a fight as the attackers raised anti-apparition wards in the vicinity, but inside he was wondering how they knew he would be here. It did not make any sense to him, but now was not the time to indulge his curiosity. He had just raised his wand to counter any curses that were about to come his way when he noticed something unusual from the corner of his eye.

Another man was approaching in calm, steady steps. Dawlish could see that he was dressed similarly to the four men surrounding him, and he was similarly unidentifiable, but his robes appeared high quality and expensive, nothing like the cheap rags the thugs around him were wearing. To Dawlish, the man seemed to be casually strolling towards their location, as if the scene before him was entirely expected. From what he could make of the reactions of the four men surrounding him, this man's arrival was also unexpected for them.

Taking advantage of their momentary befuddlement, Dawlish quickly sent Stunners at two of the four men surrounding him. One of them found their target, but the other wizard managed to raise a shield in time to block it. Dawlish quickly sidestepped an orange curse he recognized as a bone-breaker and blocked the glass shards sent his way by another attacker by conjuring a wooden shield in front of him. In a moment of reprieve, he noticed that the new arrival had stopped some distance away from the fight and showed no interest in intervening.

He banished the piece of wood towards the attacker and sent a blasting curse somewhere to the middle of the other two. The pair leaped away from the explosion and one of them retaliated by using a sickly purple-looking curse that Dawlish did not recognize. He had no time to dodge, so he cast the strongest shield charm he could and the curse crashed against it. He realized belatedly that the shield was not enough to stop the curse, but he only felt some dizziness once the curse found its target, so he deduced it must've been weakened.

Dawlish was not liking these odds. The stunned enemy could be awakened by a simple reviving charm, and even if he ignored him he was disoriented and up against three combatants. Dawlish had confidence that he could take any of them in a duel, but against three of them he could only stall for time, and not for much longer. In his moment of disorientation, he noticed a red spell heading towards him. His eyes widened as he recognized the Cruciatus curse, but he could neither dodge nor block it in his current state. He braced himself for the pain and raised his wand to send a curse at one of the attackers.

Suddenly, a sizeable piece of rock dislodged from the ground and intercepted the curse heading for Dawlish. The rock shattered, and Dawlish's eyes widened in surprise. Before he could react, he heard a man's voice, which was obviously being concealed by an application of a voice-altering charm.

"That's quite enough."

All five combatants turned to look towards the source of the voice, which happened to be the man observing their fight. The man let out a breath and made a flicking motion with his wand.

Dawlish felt goosebumps all around his body as the spell washed over him, but he was unharmed. The four assailants were not so lucky, and they were violently thrown away from his location at a high speed before they could react, each crashing into some wall or tree some distance away. The man turned towards him, approaching in steady steps, and spoke.

"Mr Dawlish, I apologize for the behavior of these thugs, but I'm afraid you've found yourself in quite the predicament. You are in possession of something that many people seek."

Dawlish had no idea what the man meant by that cryptic comment, but the man had no intention to explain. As the man began raising his wand, Dawlish's instincts kicked in and he quickly sent a Stunner at the man before he could cast whatever spell he was intending to. The stunner made it about three meters from the man, and then it _vanished_. Dawlish blinked in confusion and the man chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"Surely you don't think such an unstable spell has any chance of working, Mr Dawlish? I must confess myself disappointed at your disrespect."

The man waved his left hand and Dawlish felt an invisible force fixing him in place. Before the man could take any other action, however, he visibly startled in place and quickly sidestepped a jagged blue spell that Dawlish only now realized was headed for the man's position. Dawlish could still move his head, so he turned to look at the direction from which the spell had come. His eyes widened as he recognized the caster.

It was Harry Potter.

Potter stopped for a moment and his eyes darted over the surroundings. Dawlish suddenly felt fear that Potter did not know the capabilities of the enemy, so he shouted.

"Potter, run! He's too powerful, you don't stand a chance alone!"

At that moment, both the man and Potter turned to look at him. Potter was eyeing him incredulously and Dawlish could not tell what the other man was thinking since his face was covered by a mask. Potter broke the silence.

"I came here for you, Mr Dawlish; just as the sorcerer standing before me, and the four before him who lured you into this trap. If I run, then that defeats the purpose of my visit, doesn't it?"

Dawlish was confused. What the hell did all of these people want with him? He did not verbalize his question, however; since Potter now looked serious and had his wand levelled at "the sorcerer", as he called the man. The man copied Potter's actions, and for a moment the pair stood facing each other in silence, neither making a move.

* * *

Harry contemplated the situation carefully. He had expected the four Death Eaters who lured Dawlish into this trap, but he hadn't anticipated the arrival of this sorcerer. The Death Eaters were inconsequential, but this man was capable enough to block his attempts to sense his spiritual structure. Under normal circumstances, he couldn't be confident in victory in this fight.

However, the circumstances were hardly normal. He did not need to kill or incapacitate this sorcerer to claim victory, he only needed to get close enough to Dawlish in order to portkey away from the location. Likewise, the man only needed to kill or erase the information that was in Dawlish's head.

The man made the first move. Harry noticed a flick of the sorcerer's wand and recognized the wide-area banishing spell. He reacted by conjuring an enchanted silver dome to disrupt the spell mechanism and the dome made a loud ringing noise upon being impacted by the force of the spell. Harry moved quickly, cracking the shield into shards and sending the pieces flying at the man.

The sorcerer flicked his wand once more and a burst of wind sent the shards off-course, but Harry was prepared. He drew a wide arc with his wand and droplets of liquid ricin condensed out of thin air. He banished them towards the sorcerer in all directions. The man's eyes widened as he recognized the compound and he quickly waved his wand around his own body to cast a protective enchantment. He then banished the unsuspecting Dawlish on the trajectory of the toxic liquid.

Harry immediately retransfigured the toxin back to water and it splashed harmlessly on Dawlish's body. The Auror was visibly startled by what had happened, but Harry had no time to spare on Dawlish at the moment. His eyes were locked on the sorcerer, who was visibly preparing for a chaotic spell. He recognized the spell in an instant and raised his wand to counter. In the next moment, two incantations echoed throughout the village.

"_Formidilio indomitus!_"

"_Expecto patronum!"_

The wide-area Nightmare Curse's faded purple clashed against the blinding white light of the Patronus charm. The two spells interfered destructively halfway between Harry and the sorcerer and the resulting patterns reminded Harry of a rainbow. With the Shroud momentarily agitated to the extreme by the clash of the two powerful spells, Harry saw his chance. He tore through the fragile anti-apparition wards raised by the Death Eaters and apparated next to Dawlish, just in time to hastily conjure a stone barrier between the man and an incoming Killing Curse. He was about to grab onto the man when Dawlish was banished away by the sorcerer and came to a stop some twenty meters away from him.

Harry quickly clamped down on his frustration, it would do him no good in this fight. He shouldn't have expected it to be so easy. He leveled his wand at the sorcerer once again and a torrent of salty water erupted from the tip of his wand. The sorcerer must've noticed his intention to use the water as a conductor, since he conjured a plastic dome in front of him. Harry retransfigured the water into nitric acid and sent a powerful counter-charm to the dome to dispel the enchantments commonly placed on conjured shields. The acid quickly tore through the plastic, but Harry felt the sorcerer apparate behind him and quickly turned around. He hastily raised an enchanted stone shield from the ground to intercept another Killing Curse, this time aimed at him.

At that moment, the combatants noticed that Dawlish's commendable efforts and the sorcerer's focus on his impromptu duel with Harry had finally disrupted the sorcerer's wandless hold on the Auror sufficiently for the man to break free of the bind. Harry's eyes widened as he realized the man was about to apparate away. He used the water vapor in the air to form a thin shield of ice in front of Dawlish in time to intercept the sorcerer's third Killing Curse in the fight, but before either of them could take any other action Dawlish disapparated with a crack.

The two sorcerers stood in silence for a few moments, both of them contemplating their failure to achieve their objectives. The man broke the silence with a cryptic comment.

"You truly resemble _him..._ so much talent in one so young. Yet your abilities are no match for _his_, not yet." The man paused. "We will meet again, Harry Potter."

Before Harry could ask the man to explain what he'd meant, the man disapparated silently from the village. Harry was left to ponder the situation. He had failed in capturing Dawlish and extracting the information he wanted from his mind, but he had succeeded in preventing the conspirators from killing or obliviating him. He would have to devise another plan to learn about what exactly Dawlish had seen while he had been assigned to protect Harold Minchum. The fact that the conspirators attempted to wipe his memory and, if that failed, to assassinate him indicated that the man knew something important even if he himself was unaware of it.

In addition, the conspirators reached Dawlish at the same time and place that Harry did, which meant they had most likely come to know about this loose end in the same way that Harry had. His initial assumption had been correct, after all. The conspirators had to have access to the files he requested from Scrimgeour, which implied that they had a presence within the Department of Mysteries.

"_...however there will be many who do (think it is inappropriate), even in our community. You should be careful divulging such plans to others._"

Harry remembered Ming's words from some time ago and it made sense. The community was decentralized, and this incident confirmed that he had enemies within the community that he was unaware of, and yet they were aware of his identity. It was a precarious position to be in, and it meant Harry had to be cautious in the future about requesting sensitive information in the name of the Department.

Harry took one last look at the limp forms of the four Death Eaters who had been sent by the Dark Lord to capture Dawlish. The Dark Lord must've deduced that Dawlish held valuable information before he did, but he was handicapped by his intention to keep his return a secret, therefore he could not come out into the open to capture Dawlish personally. Harry shook his head and promptly disappeared from the depopulated village.

* * *

"Explain," the Dark Lord hissed.

Nott flinched at the Dark Lord's tone. "My Lord, we were about to capture Dawlish when a sorcerer interfered in the fight and incapacitated us. I don't know anything of what happened afterwards, I was unconscious."

The Dark Lord's displeasure was almost palpable, and a moment later Nott felt the Dark Lord tear into his mind mercilessly to see what happened for himself. When he was finished, his mood had shifted completely, and now the Dark Lord appeared thoughtful.

"My plan succeeded in drawing them out," the Dark Lord said, "but you and your incompetence resulted in the opportunity being wasted once more."

Nott had no idea what the Dark Lord was talking about. Had the Dark Lord anticipated the arrival of this sorcerer? The Dark Lord continued.

"If it was not for your lack of attention to the happenings around Dawlish, you wouldn't have failed in this task. How did you fail to notice that the man was being watched, Nott?"

Nott was about to explain himself before the Dark Lord cut him off. "I have no wish to hear excuses. I distinctly recall warning you about this possibility, and yet you ignored my direct orders." The Dark Lord raised his wand in an instant and incanted "_Crucio!_"

Nott fell from his chair in agony and screamed. Every cell in his body was screaming with pain and he thrashed about in unimaginable pain. Ten seconds later, the Dark Lord lifted the curse and promptly ignored his form on the floor. He turned to address the remainder of the Death Eaters in the meeting.

"I know many of you harbor worries about the incident in Azkaban still. I assure you, the traitor who would stoop so low as to kill our own kind using _Muggle _weapons will be punished most severely." The Dark Lord's eyes roamed around the Death Eaters present, as if judging each of them and inspecting whether they may have been involved. After another moment, the Dark Lord continued. "I am aware many among our numbers have concerns they wish to raise related to this subject. You may speak freely."

One of the Death Eaters took up the Dark Lord on his offer. "My Lord, we have concerns about these new Muggle weapons. The Department of Mysteries says they are not a threat, but why should we rely on them to provide us with what we need to claim our rightful place?"

"You wish to engage in Muggle research?" The Dark Lord's tone of voice made his displeasure at this prospect clear.

The Death Eater flinched. "No, my Lord. We think our country has relied too much on the Department of Mysteries for magical discovery. Our intention is to organize a means of magical research which is independent from them and their authority."

Another Death Eater spoke up. "Why should we be dependent on those of filthy blood like Potter to discover the secrets of magic? Magic is our heritage! It's our duty to advance this cause!"

There were murmurs of agreement around the long table. When the Dark Lord spoke, the table was silent, all those present hanging onto his every word.

"It is true that the privilege and responsibility of discovering more about magic has been hijacked by those of impure blood," the Dark Lord said. "I concur with all of you that this is an intolerable state of affairs. What is ours by right of our heritage should be reclaimed by us."

The table erupted into cheers at the Dark Lord's proclamation. The Dark Lord silenced the enthusiasm by raising his hand and continued to speak. "The Department is a relic of the past. In this new era, the cause of furthering our knowledge of magic will be advanced by its rightful practicioners, those who are of pure blood. I ask you, are you willing to make the sacrifices necessary for our success in this endeavor?"

The entire table shouted in unison. "Yes, my Lord!"

The corners of the Dark Lord's lips twitched upward, and he gave a curt nod. "Very well. The legal avenues will be pursued, of course, but the project must start as soon as possible. Selwyn will be responsible for handling the organization."

Selwyn spoke up from his seat at the table. "I would be honored, my Lord."

"I expect to see progress within the month," the Dark Lord said. "You have access to resources beyond the reach of most of the country. Make good use of them. In the meantime, I will endeavor to discover the identity of the traitor within."

"What of the Department of Mysteries, my Lord?" one of the Death Eaters asked.

"Openly moving against them soon would be unwise," the Dark Lord answered. "The Department is privy to many secrets and irregularities surround the entire institution. For now, we must be content with pursuing political means of restricting their reach."

"I understand, my Lord."

The Dark Lord looked over the table once more. "The situation calls for subtlety, but all of you must be prepared to wage war once more if necessary. I've received intelligence that Albus Dumbledore is reorganizing the Order of the Phoenix. If we begin to move openly we will meet resistance from them once again. If we're fortunate, the Order and the Ministry will come to blows with one another, but do not place faith in that possibility."

After a brief pause, the Dark Lord continued. "There is another matter regarding the Department of Mysteries. There is a certain object within the Department's premises in the Ministry that I require the retrieval of... a prophecy orb, to be exact. Due to various circumstances, it is imperative that I retrieve this object in person, but acting rashly will only bring about adverse consequences. To that end, I require some of you to make preparations for my eventual trip to the Hall of Prophecy."

The Dark Lord took a deep breath. "The first step of the plan is..."

* * *

Harry quickly made his way through the corridors of the Ministry towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had been called to testify for his involvement in the Dawlish incident after the details of the event came to light. Normally such affairs would not be taken care of directly by the Head of the Department, but Harry's case was a particularly high profile one for a variety of reasons, which led to Amelia Bones taking a personal interest in the incident.

As soon as he stepped into the Department, he noticed the strange looks being sent his way by the Hit Wizards. The spacious room, which held about twenty Hit Wizards on a normal day, had frozen still upon his entrance. Curious, Harry reached out with a subtle connection to brush the surface thoughts of some of the wizards in the room. The predominant emotions he felt from his probe were curiosity and fear - curiosity about the incident and fear about the capability he and the unidentified sorcerer showed in their duel. Dawlish must've explained the event in detail or his memories had been viewed in a Pensieve, Harry realized. It was an unexpected complication that Dawlish escaped, one that he had to mitigate the harmful consequences of as soon as possible.

Harry ignored the stares he was getting and walked straight towards the office of the Head of the Department, and soon the Hit Wizards went back to their own busines, most of them dealing with the endless nightmare of paperwork. He opened the door and walked in to see Bones rising from her chair to greet him. He smiled and shook hands with her.

"Mr Potter, you're early."

"The matter is an urgent one," Harry said. "I thought it would be best for the nature of my involvement in it to be made clear as soon as possible."

"On that we agree," Bones said. "Please, take a seat."

Harry obliged and took the seat opposite Bones. She was being polite, but Harry could feel her suspicion through his faint Legilimency probe. A faint probe was as far as he dared to venture into her consciousness while being assured that she would not notice. Bones was one of the most skilled witches in Britain and Harry was certain she had some training in detecting mental probes.

She got straight to the point, as Harry expected. "Per procedure, you'll have to submit a written testimony. A memory will not be required, as Mr Dawlish has agreed to submit his memory of the incident for examination and we deemed the information it provides to be sufficient for the purposes of our investigation."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

"Very well," Bones said. "You may begin your testimony, Mr Potter. Once your account of the event is complete, I'll ask questions regarding any matters that need to be clarified."

Letting out a breath, Harry began to explain. "I learned about the consecutive attacks on Auror Dawlish a few days before the incident and I became suspicious of any potential involvement by former Death Eaters. When I heard about the rumors of Dark magic use in the village, I initially paid it no mind, but when I found out that Auror Dawlish had been dispatched alone to investigate, I suspected a trap. I went to investigate and found him being held at wandpoint by a hostile sorcerer along with the incapacitated bodies of four others. I interfered to stop whatever spell the sorcerer was about to cast and duelled him with the goal of escaping with him. Following Mr Dawlish's disapparition, the sorcerer ceased our duel and disapparated."

That explanation had the merit of being true to the letter, however it was wildly misleading. Bones furrowed her brows. "How did you learn that Auror Dawlish had been given this assignment?"

"I have acquaintances in the Department," Harry answered. Strictly speaking it was true, however it had little to do with the answer to her question. He had acquired the information by judicious application of Legilimency on members of the Department who were less inclined towards the mind arts and came to suspect a trap for Dawlish laid by the Dark Lord, along with the perfect opportunity to capture Dawlish for himself and extract the information he sought from his mind.

Bones was satisfied with that answer, as Harry knew she would be, since these assignments were not classified knowledge. She continued her questioning. "Do you have any ideas on who the unidentified sorcerer might be?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't. I'm sure you've arrived at the same conclusion, but he is extraordinarily talented. There are few sorcerers of that caliber in the world, let alone Britain."

"Do you have any knowledge regarding why Auror Dawlish might've been targeted as he has been?"

"I don't." That was a blatant lie, but Bones did not need to know that. In fact, Harry was certain knowing too much about this conspiracy was a good way to get yourself Obliviated or murdered, so from a certain perspective he was doing Bones a favor by concealing the truth from her. He would rather not lie if he didn't have to, but in this instance he saw no other option. Spinning a wild tale about why Dawlish had been targeted would only make things worse for him.

Bones appeared to be satisfied, but Harry could still feel the nagging suspicion in her mind. She was very good at concealing her true emotions, a trait that led him to suspect that she was an accomplished Occlumens, but he had no way to confirm it without alerting her to his incessant probing of her mind. Silently, Harry pleaded for her to not pry too much into this matter, but he could not say so out loud. If Bones came to suspect a fraction of the truth behind the incident, she would no doubt be in mortal danger. Her voice interrupted his musings.

"That will be sufficient," she said, standing up. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Potter."

Harry forced a smile on his face while rising from his seat. "No need for thanks, Madam Bones."

After another polite handshake, Harry left the office, fully aware of Amelia Bones' suspicious gaze fixed on his retreating form.


	17. Order of the Phoenix

Harry and Dumbledore apparated some distance from the Burrow. They were here on Dumbledore's request for Harry to participate in the latest meeting of the members of a newly reorganized Order of the Phoenix. Harry was not yet privy to the details of the operations of the Order; his mind was occupied by a multitude of other issues. What was he going to do about Dawlish? Should he intervene more strongly to stop Bones from attempting whatever scheme she would hatch to uncover the circumstances behind his duel? Who are the conspirators within the Department of Mysteries? How should he parry the attack the Dark Lord would undoubtedly launch on the status of the Department soon?

He shook his head and focused on the present moment; there would be time later to contemplate on these questions. As the two sorcerers started walking along a narrow clearing in the dark yellow grass surrounding the house, Harry broke the silence.

"Professor, have you uncovered what R.A.B. stands for?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I may have, though I have no means to confirm my theory," he said. "I believe the abbreviation stands for Regulus Arcturus Black."

The name was unfamiliar to Harry. He frowned. "Who is that, Professor?"

"He was the youngest son of Orion and Walburga Black. He was a strong believer in the ideals of blood purity and joined Lord Voldemort's ranks while still in Hogwarts. The common belief was that he was uncomfortable with what he experienced during his service to Lord Voldemort and he tried to cease his involvement with him, but he was killed in reprisal by the Death Eaters."

Harry's mind was already working to reconcile this information with Dumbledore's suspicion. "A body was never found?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly and shook his head. It was enough for Harry to deduce what had likely been the fate of Black. He continued his questioning.

"If he couldn't destroy the locket himself, he would've entrusted it to someone who would attempt to do so. Do you have any ideas, Professor?"

"Nothing I would be confident in," Dumbledore said. "There may be further clues in the ancestral Black home, which was where Regulus lived until his demise to the extent of our knowledge. With Sirius Black's death, however, the ownership of the house has become a disputed matter."

Harry hummed and replied cryptically. "I may have a means of accessing the house discreetly. There are many benefits to being in my position, after all."

"I hoped as much," Dumbledore replied, smiling. "You're certainly difficult to reach these days, Harry. Would I be correct in assuming this is also linked to your... position?"

"There is a frenzy of research within the Department right now," Harry replied. He considered briefly whether sharing further knowledge with Dumbledore would do any harm and concluded there would be no problems with following through. "An ancient ritual site has been discovered in China, last used more than four thousand years ago. I've been working with some other researchers on trying to better understand the nature of the magic that was done in the site."

Dumbledore's steps slowed down upon hearing Harry's explanation. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "There are traces left after four thousand years?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically, adjusting his steps to match Dumbledore's. "Yes, Professor. It's a truly fascinating piece of offensive magic based on what we can tell, far beyond what we had assumed would be within the capacity of such ancient sorcerers to perform."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "A remarkable discovery... I had always harbored suspicions about the inconsistencies in the known historical timeline of the magical world."

Harry did not miss the flickering of Dumbledore's eyes towards his wand. He smiled, and was about to reply when he froze in place and his eyes widened in shock. He blinked, tried to reorient his senses to dispel what he felt as his attention was focused on Dumbledore's wand, but he was unsuccessful.

After a few moments he was forced to accept that his senses were not deceiving him. "Antioch Peverell's wand..."

Dumbledore froze, surprised, and turned to look at Harry. "You know the tale of the Hallows, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, too dazed to be confused by Dumledore's question. "No, Professor. I know of Peverell's research into the nature of wands... He claimed in some of his research notes that he had succeeded in crafting a wand more efficient and intelligent than any other, one that was particularly suited to chaotic magic. I recognized the unique pattern he described."

Dumbledore was truly curious now. "How did you come by those research notes?"

Harry shook his head to snap himself out of the daze. "My teacher was something of a... collector of ancient texts. It was part of her collection."

Dumbledore nodded silently, but Harry could tell he was unsatisfied by this vague answer. In this case, however, Harry did not actually have a better answer to give Dumbledore; he himself did not know how Ravenclaw had acquired this particular text. After a few moments of silence, the pair started on their path towards the house once again. Dumbledore broke the silence with a grave tone.

"You should've asked me about Auror Dawlish," he said. "I could've arranged a meeting. I must say that I don't approve of your chosen method of information acquisition."

Harry grimaced. He knew Dumbledore would disapprove of his actions, but he would not lie to Dumbledore about this subject. "It would've been difficult, Professor. Dawlish himself is unaware of the significance of whatever he witnessed. We could acquire information only through extensive use of mind magic, and it would take a long time even if he volunteered to surrender classified information, which he would not."

Dumbledore let out a breath slowly. "I once thought, as you do now, that ends justify the means, that for the greater good any transgression was permissible. I did not appreciate the dangers that lie at the extremes of such consequentialism, waiting to corrupt any who would dare to venture into such territory. I had the good fortune of turning away before I was influenced too strongly, but not all are so fortunate in their forays into this domain of morality..."

Harry was listening to Dumbledore attentively, and he was intrigued by the wistful tone in Dumbledore's voice. Harry was fairly confident that Dumbledore was speaking from personal experience, but he could tell the Professor did not want to elaborate further on the last part of his warning. Regardless, Harry would not concede this point to Dumbledore.

"I believe the danger of the corruption you speak of is exaggerated, Professor. In this instance Dawlish would come to no harm as a consequence of the perusal of his mind and the information we obtain from him could prove crucial to uncovering the plot of the conspirators, perhaps even their identities. I don't see how one could reasonably argue against using Legilimency on Dawlish, whether one has his consent to do so or not."

"You may be right Harry, but this action is far from the extremes I speak of. I merely caution you against the extremes, as one does not venture into such waters without first exploring where the ocean is tame."

Harry knew, even from this brief exchange, that he would never persuade Dumbledore to see things his way, nor vice versa. Before he could articulate a response, he felt the wards singing around him. He closed his eyes and listened, the exquisite beauty of the construction drawing him in.

"The wards..." he breathed. "They're beautiful."

"I appreciate the compliment, Harry."

It was no surprise that Dumbledore had been the one to weave these wards; Harry doubted any within the Order had the skill and talent required for such a feat of magic. He opened his eyes to see the Burrow a hundred metres away. The house was not richly decorated by any means, and yet its bizarre architecture was still appealing to Harry on a level he could not describe precisely. The pair of sorcerers walked in silence towards the entrance of the Weasley home and Dumbledore knocked on the door gently.

The door was opened by a middle-aged woman with red hair and bright brown eyes. Harry had never seen her before, but he surmised she must be Molly Weasley. She appeared welcoming, but a faint brush of Legilimency told Harry that she had no idea he would be present in this meeting. Harry turned towards Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow, who pointedly ignored his silent question.

"Oh, Dumbledore, come inside - _Harry Potter_?"

Harry was about to respond when Dumbledore cut in. "Indeed. I thought it would be best if Harry participated in this meeting; I believe his presence will be of great assistance to the Order."

Molly stared at Dumbledore incredulously, clearly unconvinced by his explanation. Harry brushed against her mind once more and scowled at what he found. Indeed, she vocalized the thoughts Harry detected in her mind a moment later.

"He's only a child! Surely you don't mean for him to participate?"

Harry noticed Dumbledore subtly glance at him and notice the scowl fixed on his face at this blatant prejudice. Before Harry could make a scathing remark, Dumbledore interjected once more, his voice gentle and yet firm.

"I think you'll find that Harry has many talents that most adult sorcerers could only dream of, Molly. Your concerns are unfounded, and my decision on the matter is final."

Molly still appeared doubtful, but she clearly respected Dumbledore's judgment enough to not argue with him further about this matter. She shook her head and made her way towards the living room, followed closely by Dumbledore and Harry.

There were perhaps two dozen people seated around a thin, long table placed in the surprisingly large room. Harry recognized some of them, but many of the faces were foreign to him. The chatter around the table died down upon their entrance and Harry noticed a significant number of people staring curiously at him. He ignored the stares and followed Dumbledore as he headed towards the chair at the head of the table. Dumbledore gestured towards the chair next to him before taking his seat, and Harry obligingly took the seat to the left of Dumbledore.

He felt a faint spiritual connection attempt originating from in front of him. He recognized the man who was trying to initiate a Legilimency probe as Severus Snape, Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Turning towards Snape, he smiled and subtly shook his head before snapping the connection. Snape's eyes widened for a moment, but he expertly concealed his reaction. Harry's estimation of Snape's magical ability rose - the man was a skilled mind mage, a rare commodity in the magical world.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to welcome our guest for today." Dumbledore's voice startled Harry out of his thoughts and he noticed Dumbledore gesturing with his hand towards his seat. "As some of you may know, Mr Potter works in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. I invited him to the meeting as I believe he may be of assistance in some pertinent matters."

Harry did not know why Dumbledore mentioned this specific bit of information, but based on the reactions around the table he could tell the participants believed it to be significant. Curious, Harry once again probed their minds discreetly using Legilimency.

_Hall of Prophecies... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... Harry Potter... Sybill Trelawney..._

Harry's eyes widened as he fully processed the implications. The Dark Lord was planning to attempt to retrieve the prophecy orb from the Hall of Prophecies, and the fact that the Order knew this meant they had a spy in the Dark Lord's ranks. Harry had no doubt the spy was Severus Snape - he was the only one among those present who was a master Occlumens. Harry felt respect and no small measure of pity for the man; his position as a double spy was precarious and would be highly stressful to maintain.

Dumbledore turned towards him, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "I believe you know of the matter I speak of, Harry."

Harry knew Dumbledore could sense his Legilimency probes, so he was not surprised by Dumbledore's remark. "I do, Professor."

"That certainly is convenient," Dumbledore said. "Do you have any knowledge about the matter?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing specific," he said. "I know the location of the orb in the Hall and I've heard some reports that some individuals had taken it upon themselves to guard a certain prophecy. Would I be incorrect in assuming that these individuals are involved with the Order?"

"They are," Dumbledore replied. "We have reason to believe that Lord Voldemort will attempt to retrieve the prophecy orb in person from the Hall of Prophecies."

Harry hummed. "That's a risky operation. If the Dark Lord intends to appear in such a public location, he would not do so without extensive preparation."

Harry also knew that the Dark Lord's ingenuity would not permit his plan to leak to the Order without his knowledge. The Dark Lord intended to lure the Order to the Hall, but for what purpose Harry could not imagine. He belatedly realized that he had entangled himself in yet another game of wits between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, but this time he was in too central of a position to not involve himself with the situation. Lost in thought, he barely noticed the gasps of several people around the table and the inquisitive gaze of Severus Snape aimed straight at him.

Harry expected a response from Dumbledore, but it was Snape who broke the silence. "The Dark Lord has requested his followers to take precautions ahead his visit, Potter. He has no intention of being unprepared."

Harry nodded. "I can inquire further into the matter, but I doubt I will found much useful information within the Department."

"I feared that would be the case," Dumbledore said. "Regardless, there are other matters that require our immediate attention. Severus, if you would elaborate?"

Snape nodded curtly before starting his explanation. "There is a faction among the Dark Lord's followers who intend to overthrow the Fudge administration and replace it with one that would be more amenable to certain projects that they have in mind, with the knowledge of the Dark Lord, of course."

Harry's interest was piqued. "They intend to stage a scandal?"

"Probably," said Snape. "I am not privy to the finer details of their schemes."

If the Dark Lord had such designs, then Harry could exploit the situation to help Scrimgeour's bid for power. The man was an expert politician and he would not cooperate with the Dark Lord under any circumstances, making him an excellent choice to fill the post of Minister for Magic. "What does the Order intend to do?"

"There's not much we can do," a voice responded. Harry did not recognize the young woman who spoke up. "Fudge won't survive another scandal after the mess in Azkaban. He'll be impeached before the day is out."

Harry shook his head. "Preventing the Fudge administration's inevitable fall from grace is not the only way in which the situation may yet be turned to our advantage. Do you have any suitable candidate to fill the post of Minister?"

The woman grimaced in response and a man who Harry recognized as Arthur Weasley spoke up. "You're recommending taking control of the Ministry?"

"Of course," Harry said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If you will not yield control to the Dark Lord, you must interfere actively, and the only way to achieve that is with a candidate of your own."

Harry did not expect the silence that greeted his proclamation, but through judicious application of Legilimency he discovered the origin of the concerns of those seated around the table. He sighed disappointedly. "This is not the time to be concerned about democracy. The future of the war is at stake."

Those seated around the table still appeared uncomfortable with this idea, but Dumbledore interjected. "Harry is right to say that the future of the war is at stake," he said. "The Ministry has access to a great many tools which, if in the wrong hands, could prove disastrous for the maintenance of a united front against Lord Voldemort and his forces. It is imperative that these are kept out of the hands of his followers."

"You agree with this plan, Dumbledore?!" a man cried. Harry did not recognize him.

"If any of those present have any alternatives, I'd be happy to listen to them." Dumbledore's tone of voice gave no sign of his supposed curiosity about these alternatives. His statement was followed by silence as it became clear that none of those present had a different idea on how to tackle the problem.

"I thought as much," Dumbledore said. "I understand the concerns you have about this plan, but I assure you that the cost of the Ministry falling into Lord Voldemort's hands is far too great."

Turning towards Harry, Dumbledore continued. "Do you have any ideas, Harry?"

Harry inclined his head. "Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office."

"Not an ideal choice," Dumbledore said, "but Rufus is a man whose opposition to Lord Voldemort we can be confident in. Any objections?"

Dumbledore's question was met by silence, and with the matter settled he changed the subject. "Has there been any news of Lord Voldemort establishing contact with magical creatures?"

"Not that I know of," a man replied. Harry could tell he was infected with the lycanthropy curse, and for a brief moment his mind wandered to the origin of the curse. It had been developed by Lady Sentenza to convert otherwise powerless wizards into werewolves who could be controlled remotely by the caster. She never revealed the exact mechanism of the curse to other sorcerers, and the secret died with her when she was killed by Emeric. The reverse engineering of the curse mechanism was one of Croyne's many achievements, however a counter-curse proved to be out of reach as the curse acted quickly to ensnare the host soul and corrupt it permanently.

Harry was busy admiring Sentenza's ingenuity for being able to design such a fast-acting and resilient curse when he realized that the man was actually talking about the Dark Lord approaching werewolves for assistance in the war. He snorted, unable to help himself, at how such a ridiculous idea could be entertained by the members of the Order.

"You have something to say, Harry?" The werewolf's voice was kind and curious. Harry nodded.

"Why would the Dark Lord ever approach werewolves to ask for their assistance? The point of the lycanthropy curse is that the caster is able to control those infected with it to do their bidding. If the Dark Lord wanted an army of werewolves, all he has to do is cast the curse on some wizards and he'll have his army."

Harry was confused by the incredulous stares he was getting from everyone present except Dumbledore, who was eyeing him curiously.

"The lycanthropy curse takes substantial focus and time to cast without a wand suited to its execution," Dumbledore said. "Lord Voldemort can make better use of his time than that, I believe."

"One can always modify their wand to be compatible with the curse mechanism," Harry responded. "It would take time as well, but for the Dark Lord the results would certainly be worthwhile."

"Would they?" Dumbledore spoke in a challenging tone. "There is only so much neural complexity that may be housed within a wand. If the sorcerer has no wish to use a spare wand which has little compatibility with them, such a modification would require one to sacrifice other potential means of improving their wand."

"What modification could possibly..." Harry trailed off at the end as realization dawned on him. "You're saying he modified his wand to make... _them_?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Even one is challenging to make, Harry. There is a reason previous sorcerers have never attempted to make more than one."

Harry understood Dumbledore's point, so he relented. "I understand, Professor. I have to say such a possibility was beyond my imagination."

The rest of the table was mystified by the exchange between Harry and Dumbledore. "What lycanthropy curse? Are you saying werewolves are _created _by dark wizards?" the werewolf blurted out.

This time it was Harry's turn to stare at the man incredulously, but his use of Legilimency told him that nobody seated at the table besides Dumbledore and possibly Snape had any idea about the origin of lycanthropy. He shook his head in disbelief as Dumbledore responded.

"Indeed, Remus. It is an obscure curse that few know how to perform. I believe the knowledge of the curse has been lost, but it was reconstructed about two centuries ago." He waved his hand dismissively, as if deeming such a revelation beneath the notice of the Order. "In any event, the fact remains that Lord Voldemort is unable to perform the curse for various reasons, which makes this piece of knowledge irrelevant for our purposes."

The members of the Order were not satisfied with Dumbledore's casual dismissal, Harry thought, but they relented regardless. The silence was interrupted by the young woman from before, whose name Harry had gleaned from the minds of the participants since the last time she had spoken - Nymphadora Tonks.

"Anyway, Harry, what's the story behind you and Dawlish? The entire Department has heard the tall tales of your duel by now."

"I did get that impression during my brief visit of Madam Bones' office," Harry said. "There's not much to be said about that incident beyond what I already told Madam Bones, which I assume is common knowledge in the Department by now."

"You told Bones that you didn't know who the sorcerer was," Tonks said. "Don't you have any ideas at all? You don't think You-Know-Who is involved?"

Harry shook his head. "The four men who initially attacked Dawlish were Death Eaters, but I doubt the sorcerer who fought me had any connection to the Dark Lord. I do have my suspicions, and I told as much to Madam Bones. There are few sorcerers in the world who would be capable of the feats he displayed, which narrows down the list of suspects considerably."

"Just what we need right now," Tonks said. "Another crazy powerful wizard with unknown amibitons."

"It is nothing the Order needs to concern itself with," Harry said, grimacing at Tonks' inelegant description of the talented sorcerer. "Professor Dumbledore and I are doing whatever is within our capacity to unearth the identity of the mysterious sorcerer. There's not much the Order can do to assist in any event."

Harry glanced around the table, once again feeling disappointed at the inadequate capacity of the members of the Order to shield their minds and souls from intrusion. All Aurors were given some rudimentary training in this area, but such inferior skill could not keep out the Dark Lord's talented followers, let alone the Dark Lord himself. He sighed and tuned out the rest of the meeting, knowing full well that Dumbledore would not reveal any important secrets to a room full of witches and wizards untrained in the mind arts.

* * *

Once the meeting was over and Harry was back at the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts with Dumbledore, the pair once again seated in their usual positions, Harry asked the question on his mind.

"Do you have any ideas on how to lure out Dawlish?"

Dumbledore sighed. "As much as I disapprove of your methods, Harry, I will assist you in this matter. Dawlish escorts Cornelius whenever he feels he is venturing into dangerous territory, and unfortunately Cornelius is likely to view any room in which I am present as such. If I were to extend an invitation to Cornelius to work out our differences, I trust it would present you with the perfect opportunity to extract the required information from Dawlish."

Harry smiled upon hearing Dumbledore's scheme; it was much better than anything Harry would've been able to execute on his own. "Thank you for your assistance, Professor."

Dumbledore spoke gravely. "I would not condone such measures under any other circumstance, but the fact that Dawlish was targeted can't be ignored given how serious the situation has become. He is also a target so long as the conspirators believe his death will resolve their troubles. I have no wish for his life to be endangered needlessly due to his obstinacy in not revealing classified information which he doesn't believe to be significant."

Harry did not care very much about Dawlish's fate, but cooperating with Dumbledore would make this task much easier, so he was glad that the situation was one in which he could rely on the Professor's help. He nodded silently, and slowly rose from his seat. "I will contact you again once I'm done with investigating the ancestral Black home, Professor."

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "I believe I may have some information for you by then."

Harry didn't inquire further into Dumbledore's cryptic remark, opting instead to exchange farewells with the Professor and then Floo away to the library, which he had been neglecting in the past weeks due to the level of activity within the Department of Mysteries.


	18. The Mound

"_Rennervate._"

Harry observed silently from his seat as Dawlish awakened from his Stunned state and blinked groggily as he took in his surroundings. His confusion was apparent, but a moment later it gave way to dawning understanding. He quickly drew his wand, stood up from where he'd been lying on the floor and aimed it straight at Harry, which he observed with no small amount of amusement.

"That will not do you any good, Mr Dawlish," Harry said in a pleasant tone. "Your interests would be best served if you cooperate."

Dawlish was unimpressed by Harry's half-hearted attempt to defuse the situation. He spoke accusingly. "Where am I, Potter? What have you done to me?!"

"We're in one of the unused rooms in the upper floor of the Headmaster's office," Harry replied. "Minister Fudge will come to no harm, so you've no need to be concerned about his well-being. As for what I've done to you, it was only a simple stunning spell, nothing more."

Harry's lips curled upward as Dawlish instinctively sent a stunning spell at him. He reached out gently and disrupted the spell structure by poking at a few critical points, and the spell vanished before it found its target. Dawlish was clearly confused, and Harry did him the favor of providing an explanation.

"Mr Dawlish, your stunning spells are not robust to external perturbation. It only takes some light touches at the right points and the spell falls apart."

Dawlish was visibly confused and Harry could sense the man's rising fear. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "I had hoped to avoid this, but I've no intention of wasting further time by explaining the situation to you in detail in hopes of receiving your cooperation."

He swiftly pointed his wand towards Dawlish and, before the man could react, silently cast _Imperio_.

_Sit down and relax_, Harry instructed through the curse, lowering his wand. Dawlish promptly seated himself on the chair opposite Harry and took a calm, relaxed posture. Use of the Imperius curse or a substitute was necessary because what Harry was about to do could take a long time to yield any results; he was going to meticulously go through Dawlish's memories while he was on duty for several years during the 1970s and attempt to find any clues as to how Minchum had been Confunded. Without Dawlish's full cooperation, willingly given or otherwise, the arduous process of Legilimency would yield less clear results and could even end up damaging Dawlish's mind irreversibly.

Fudge had been Confunded and was currently sitting downstairs with Dumbledore, but he had only set aside an hour for this meeting and Harry did not want to rouse anyone's suspicions by keeping the Minister here for no longer than necessary. He had only one hour to dig up whatever memories that may be relevant. He let out a breath, closed his eyes and prepared himself for what he was about to do. Once he was ready, he opened his eyes, pointed his wand at Dawlish and incanted "_Legilimens._"

* * *

Harry emerged thoughtfully from his review of Dawlish's memories. He had detected a single irregularity in the entire schedule of the ex-Minister, and it was a discreet meeting with Bartemius Crouch in Hogsmeade. Dawlish was not privy to the details of this meeting, but based on his memories Harry was sure whatever happened to Minchum took place while he was in this meeting, within an approximately two hour window.

The evidence was insufficient to let him say, but what he saw was enough to make Harry suspect foul play on Crouch's part. Putting aside this concern for the moment, he turned to face Dawlish. The Auror could not remember what had happened here. Without releasing the Imperius curse, he Obliviated the man carefully of any memories of the encounter, implanting vague memories of observing a meeting between Fudge and Dumbledore that never took place. Satisfied with his work, he directed the man to leave the room and head downstairs before snapping the Imperius curse.

Harry waited for several minutes for Dumbledore to send Fudge away, and once he sensed them leaving the office, he made his way downstairs. Dumbledore was sitting on his chair with a weary expression as Harry took the chair opposite him. Harry broke the silence before Dumbledore could ask any questions.

"It must've happened in a two hour long meeting Minchum had with Crouch in Hogsmeade," he said. "That's the only time when Minchum was at a location that was both outside the view of his Auror escorts and lacked the wards which would've prevented such intrusive mind magic from being cast on him."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I faintly recall such a meeting..."

"There's not much more we can say," Harry continued. "There are several avenues of investigation this information opens, especially if Crouch's memory of the meeting remains intact."

"Bartemius is a capable wizard," Dumbledore said. "I doubt anyone would've been able to Confund him discreetly, especially not in wartime when he was perpetually on guard against such attempts. His memory most likely remains intact."

"That's good news," Harry said, relieved. "Could we arrange a meeting?"

"I believe so, Harry. In fact, Bartemius has been spending a significant amount of time here at Hogwarts recently due to his duties as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "For the organization of the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Indeed." That was convenient for Harry, but they still had to be cautious while approaching Crouch. There was a possibility that the man was involved in the conspiracy directly. Harry let out a breath.

"I understand," he said. After a brief pause, he continued. "Now that the matter of Dawlish has been resolved..."

Harry reached inside his robe and pulled out a locket, and Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise as he leaned forward in his chair.

"The real locket was inside the Black home," Harry said before Dumbledore could ask any questions. "Black gave it to a house-elf with instructions to destroy it, but the elf failed in its task."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand. It is fortunate that you managed to locate the real horcrux."

Harry placed the locket on the table as Dumbledore observed it intently. "Should we destroy the vessel?"

"That would be for the best," Dumbledore answered. "I see no reason to delay its destruction."

Harry nodded silently as he stood up, took out his wand and aimed it at the locket. He sharpened his focus on the flows and ebbs of the Shroud around and within the locket, and a moment later, forcefully incanted "_Anima resonantia dirumpo!_"

There was a loud screeching sound as the soul shard itself came under severe external pressure, and the enchantments on the locket pushed back, shaking and breaking objects around the room in the process. As Harry held the spell, the locket itself began to crack and the enchantments placed on it were slowly dispelled. Moments later, Harry felt the soul shard travel along the connection back to rejoin the master soul and he terminated the spell.

He slowly breathed out. "It is done."

Dumbledore's expression reflected amusement and surprise. "Most sorcerers would try to destroy the vessel, not its resonance with the soul shard."

"That would require either dispelling the enchantments directly or finding a weakness," Harry said. "It's doable, but it's more effective to use soul magic to destroy a creation of soul magic."

"A fresh perspective, one that's often glossed over due to the dangers of imperfect soul magic casting." Dumbledore paused. "Regardless, the deed is done. I must thank you for your assistance, Harry."

Harry shook his head as he sat down. "Not at all, Professor. Lord Voldemort is a threat to us all, and his immortality is an intolerable circumstance. I merely do my part." There was a pause. "You said you would have something to tell me, Professor..?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said. "There is a location which I intend to investigate in search of a horcrux."

"I see... I would be glad to accompany you if you would allow me to, Professor."

"I would be thankful, Harry." Dumbledore sighed. "I hope the demands of the war with Lord Voldemort are not too much of a burden for you. To have to be involved in such a war so young... I would've avoided it if I could've."

"On the contrary, Professor; I am honored to have an opportunity to contribute to the stability and integrity of our society in a meaningful way so early on in my life. It is not an opportunity many have."

"It may be for the best that you have such a perspective." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and waved his wand to repair the broken objects around the room. "Our visit to the location will have to take place at a later time, I'm afraid. Students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are due to arrive at the school today, and I will be busy for some time after their arrival."

"I understand..." Harry let out a breath and stood up once more. "I will have to excuse myself now, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well, Harry. I wish you luck in your research."

Harry thanked the Professor as he walked towards the fireplace, stepped inside and vanished in a burst of green flames.

* * *

Harry appeared silently in front of a large mound by the Yellow River. The mound, which must've once been an ancient ritual site for the Chinese civilization, stood intact after thousands of years, preserved by the powerful enchantments layered on it. As he walked up the slope leading to the apex of the mound, Harry closed his eyes to once again feel the remnants of magic still lingering in the vicinity. It was a curious mixture of different kinds of magic, some of it consistent with what had been found in other sites, and yet some of it was foreign. The researchers who dated the wards had concluded some of them must've been cast much later and using different techniques. The most likely explanation was that the site had been visited 700 to 900 years ago by a sorcerer who cast his own enchantments on the site for an unknown purpose. This mystery was the reason why Harry had been dispatched to investigate the site more thoroughly.

_Curious..._

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by a voice resonating inside his mind. It was a voice he knew well. _Milady? How..?_

_Magic flows easily in this place... easily enough for me to use simple mind magic..._

Harry blinked. He hadn't noticed before, but when he focused he realized Ravenclaw was telling the truth. _I hadn't realized... that's highly unusual._

_It is... such an environment has to be created, it wouldn't emerge spontaneously. I feel this place hides many secrets for one who knows to look for them..._

Harry nodded silently and continued his ascent up the slope, his path illuminated only by the light of the full moon shining in the night sky. _Do you think..?_

_It is possible... you should check for the presence of any such artifacts. Be on your guard..._

Harry soon reached the circular clearing surrounded by large stone pillars on the top of the mound. Before proceeding further, he raised his wand and incanted "_Anima resonantia revelio._"

As the results of the frequency analysis trickled into his mind, Harry's eyes widened and focused on the cubic stone standing at the center of the ritual circle. A ruby gem laid on top of it. _The gem resembles a soul container, and yet it feels incomplete... almost like a portrait._

_It may have been constructed to house knowledge, memories, experiences; not to sustain a full consciousness... Portraits are corrupted versions of such artifacts._

_I understand_, Harry thought, and approached the ritual stone in slow steps. He came to a halt in front of it, his eyes focused on the ruby gem which showed no sign of reacting to his presence. He reached out to sense the precise nature of the gem and realized what he had to do. He slowly raised his wand, took a deep breath and lightly tapped the memory container. A moment later, the world around him vanished into darkness.

* * *

_Harry viciously jabbed his wand forward, assaulting the wards around the ancient ritual mound with brute force. The wards were advanced, but after so much time they couldn't hold for long against the abilities of the Dark Lord. They cracked and dispelled under the pressure, leaving him with a vague sense of satisfaction mixed with wariness. After another few detection spells, he cautiously began to ascend the slope leading to the peak of the mound. _

_The wards did not pose a challenge to him, but Harry knew very well that few in the world could cast such intricate wards, even given unlimited amounts of time to do so. Even now, thinking about what he had uncovered from his studies of these sites and of ancient Chinese myths frightened him. He knew that more investigation was needed, but if the conclusions he'd drawn based on the limited evidence available to him were correct, he would not dare to risk such an action._

_He reached the clearing on top of the mound and stepped inside the ritual circle demarcated by twelve stone pillars. For two minutes, he stood still with his eyes closed, observing a moment of silence for what had once been a great civilization. Their memory would not be forgotten, he told himself. What he had to do was necessary, as were the many other measures he had taken once he learned of the disaster that had befallen China during the rule of Emperor Shun. There was not a soul who noticed the lone tear that fell from his right eye as he was once again overwhelmed by what he had to do. _

_He opened his eyes and moved forward, towards the center of the ritual circle, and came to a stop in front of the cube-shaped stone which had ancient Chinese characters carved on it. He could read them now, after years of studying their language. This must've been the place in which the Chinese crafted their wands, perhaps for the first time in history. Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, he withdrew his wand and began to weave secrecy wards around the entire site, replacing the degraded ones that had been cast by ancient sorcerers who must've shared some of his concerns. For half an hour he continued to trace out complicated patterns with his wand with unwavering focus. He couldn't afford to make a mistake, not here._

_Once he was done, he took out a ruby gem from inside his robes and carefully placed it on the ritual stone. Stepping back a few steps, he took a deep breath before beginning to speak out loud._

_"If you're viewing this memory, it means the secrecy enchantments you saw me placing on the mound have degraded enough for the location to be revealed. You must be from a time many centuries in the future. I left the memory container hoping that one day someone would find it and finish the investigation I have started."_

_Harry let out a breath before continuing his explanation. "My name is Antioch Peverell. Perhaps you know of my name, perhaps not, it matters little. I have discovered the remnants of the ancient Chinese civilization in my research into the historical origin of wandmaking, and I've uncovered much about their achievements. I was enthusiastic at first, brimming with excitement at how much we could further our understanding of magic with access to their knowledge. I was naive... so naive..."_

_"The knowledge of the ancient Chinese and Egyptians gave them power, power beyond what most sorcerers are capable of unleashing today. Instead of using their discoveries constructively, they unleashed untold destruction upon the world, nearly driving the magical community to extinction. They made a mistake; they came to know too much about magic before their society was ready to handle the consequences of such ability to dominate nature falling into the wrong hands. The mistake proved to be their undoing, and it is a mistake we must not repeat under any circumstances. I have plans for accelerating the restructuring process of our community until it will be ready for such knowledge, but until then it is essential for it to remain unknown, no matter the cost. I plead with you, sorcerer, to understand why I had to do this... I fear that once the full extent of my actions to obscure the truth of magic come to light, many will not be willing to listen with an open mind. Don't repeat the mistake of the ancients, learn from their failures..."_

_Harry took another deep breath. "If I've succeeded in what I will set out to do some time from now, the magical community should now have the necessary structure to handle the discovery of this knowledge. In that case, don't stop until the full truth is brought to light, until our community can once again soar to the heights that we've been forced to abandon due to our own folly and weakness... How you will do this is up to you, but never forget that survival is paramount. Avoid the risk of ruin... it is my final advice to you, sorcerer."_

_He continued after a brief pause. "I leave you with the location of a hidden vault in Egypt which houses the most important discoveries I've made in my investigation, along with many of my unfinished research projects. Do not let them go to waste."_

_He raised his wand and pointed it at the ruby gem lying on the ritual stone. "I have another memory for you, sorcerer. Farewell..." he said, and the world around him vanished into darkness._

* * *

_Harry walked slowly through the dense forest, heading towards the castle he had last visited many decades ago. He had come here with a heavy heart, and even now his being cried out in protest of what he was compelled to do. He stopped outside the boundary of the wards, preparing himself for one last time for the confrontation that would doubtlessly follow. Two of the Founders were dead, he'd heard; Slytherin by his own hand, and Ravenclaw because of an unknown illness. It would make his task easier._

_Taking a deep breath, he raised the wand he had crafted himself and launched a powerful offensive against the wards surrounding the castle. The wards on Hogwarts were the most advanced in the world, a true piece of art, and having to treat them with such violence upset Harry, but he had no choice. The wards cried and screeched, the deafening sounds reverberating throughout the forest. Just as he'd finished tearing down the intent wards surrounding the castle which would deny him entry, two sorcerers apparated in front of him. He recognized them - Gryffindor and Hufflepuff._

_"You!" Gryffindor said with barely restrained fury. "How dare you attack our castle, Peverell?!"_

_"You will not harm the students," Hufflepuff declared. "We will not let you."_

_Harry chuckled darkly. "You will stop me? You've grown arrogant beyond your abilities."_

_Gryffindor conjured a powerful firestorm while Hufflepuff conjured venomous needles and sent them flying at him. Harry flicked his wand twice, magnetizing the needles and forcing them to change direction, while he condensed the nitrogen in the air into liquid form and used it to extinguish Gryffindor's elemental conjuration attempt._

_"Pitiful," he said. "I'd expected more from you, given how magnificently Slytherin fought. Is this the best you're capable of?"_

_He jabbed his wand forward and a wave of pure white flames erupted from its tip, heading towards the two Founders. He made another flick and violent winds combined with the flames, fanning them and accelerating their spread. _

_"Aqua eructo!" Hufflepuff shouted the incantation as Gryffindor apparated next to him and lunged with his sword. Harry shook his head and unleashed a powerful telekinetic wave, sending Gryffindor flying and tearing large pieces of rock from the ground. He transfigured them into sodium and sent them flying at Hufflepuff. She barely had enough time to cease her spell to raise a shield before Harry condensed the water vapor around the metal and the violent reaction caused a large explosion, cracking Hufflepuff's hastily conjured shield._

_"You stand no chance," Harry said as he directed the plasma storm towards both of his opponents, casting various enchantments to make it resistant to magical attempts at exhaustion. Finally, he made a circular motion with his wand and incanted "Crucio indomitus!"_

_The two Founders were fighting valiantly, but they simply lacked Harry's level of understanding, precision and speed. They couldn't keep up with the chaotic spells Harry lunged at them one after the other within seconds of each other. They managed to extinguish his enchanted plasma storm, but couldn't defend in time against the chaotic, wide-area variant of the Cruciatus that he had used. Moments later, their screams echoed throughout the forest, and Harry held the spell for a full minute before dispelling it. By this point his opponents were barely conscious, and Harry knew they could not be allowed to live. With two Killing Curses, he finished off his defenseless opponents and made his way towards the castle without further delay._

_He came to a halt before the gates of the courtyard and raised his wand towards the sky. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath, and a moment later his hand blurred into motion. He weaved the most advanced and subtle mental manipulation wards he knew of into the structure of the warding complex of the castle, using secrets he had gleaned from Slytherin's mind to hide the wards so none who knew where to look for them would ever find them. He would've never guessed that his victory over Slytherin would carry such an unexpected boon. Regardless, Hogwarts was only one of many institutions across the world where he had to take similar measures. The vast majority of the population had to remain uninterested in and ignorant of the deeper truths behind magic, and he had not yet perfected mind wards which would achieve more refined results._

_He finished placing the wards with no small amount of regret and promptly disapparated from the castle grounds, the world plunging into darkness once more._

* * *

Harry emerged from the memories in a disoriented state. Once he'd had a moment to center himself, he only stared at the ruby gem, too shocked to show any other reaction.

_I understand now... to think a sorcerer could achieve such mastery of mind magic and use it in such a way..._

Ravenclaw's thoughts startled him out of his reverie. _How... how could he do such a thing?_

_He thought it was necessary... if he spoke the truth about what he'd discovered, I would share his concerns._

_That's not the point! _Harry thought furiously. _He... what he did is unforgivable, it is the ultimate attack on one's dignity, on civilization! How can you defend him?_

_Calm down. You're reacting emotionally, it's very much unlike you. You sensed what I sensed, you experienced his regret, his suffering at what circumstances compelled him to do. If he had an alternative means of ensuring the survival of the magical community, I've no doubt he would've chosen it._

Harry breathed in and out several times, clearing his mind and soothing his rage. Ravenclaw was right. Peverell had to have exhausted all other options before he would resort to such mind magic as the answer to his problems. _The memories resolve some mysteries and yet they create others. Was Peverell connected to the Department of Mysteries?_

_It is possible that is what he meant when he spoke of what he would do in the future... and yet Peverell is said to have died sometime in the 14th century. The news of his death may have been fabricated..._

_You're right, _Harry replied. After a moment's pause, he continued. _Peverell was a truly talented sorcerer... I've never seen anyone so proficient at controlling chaotic spells._

_Peverell was regarded as the greatest chaotic sorcerer to have ever lived in my time... he had prodigious talent in that area of magic. I've only seen one other whose talent would be comparable..._

Harry was truly curious. _Who?_

He got the impression that Ravenclaw was doing the mental equivalent of chuckling in response to his question. _You..._

Harry blinked. _I can't do half of what he did in his duel with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff._

_Not yet, _Ravenclaw admitted. _You have the talent, but not the knowledge that comes from experience... that will come in time. Pride and overconfidence in one's abilities is dangerous, and yet so is underestimating one's potential... do not forget that._

Harry nodded, knowing that Ravenclaw wouldn't flatter him dishonestly. _I won't._

_Take the gem... it is dangerous to leave it here now that the site has been exposed. I doubt there is more for us to find here..._

Harry silently took the gem from on top of the stone and placed it inside his robes. He looked around the ritual circle one last time, and promptly disapparated from the mound in silence.


End file.
